


Falling Stars

by InsaneJuliann, Moonrose91



Series: Sandbox 'verse [5]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Canon-Typical Violence, Domestic Violence, F/F, M/M, Memory Loss, Multi, Other Additional Tags to Be Added
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-30
Updated: 2016-02-07
Packaged: 2018-04-01 07:48:24
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 24
Words: 99,519
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4011655
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/InsaneJuliann/pseuds/InsaneJuliann, https://archiveofourown.org/users/Moonrose91/pseuds/Moonrose91
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The baby is coming and HYDRA is slithering through the cracks.</p><p>And maybe, as they fight to keep their loved ones safe, they'll lose more than they expect.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hey guys. Did you know Moon and I are IN LIFE MEETING AT THIS VERY MOMENT? We are.
> 
> Also, here's that long-awaited next installment in the Sandbox Pet AU Verse.

“Have I mentioned how much I hate HYDRA?” Bucky caught one by the throat and threw him aside, into the wall. It dented with the impact and the agent didn’t get up again.

 “Yes.” Steve plucked his shield from the air and turned to get the guy trying to sneak behind Tony.

 "Any luck with JARVIS?”

“No,” Tony growled. Bucky winced internally. Not only was Tony possessive of his tech, he was protective of it as well. Someone fucking with J? Yeah, Tony was beyond pissed.

“Phil?”

The older man gave a single, sharp shake of his head.

“We need to get Darce out of here.” Bucky snapped a neck, twisted, took aim, finished off the last of Tony’s current group. Neck prickled; he ducked a knife. Tony blasted whoever was there and Bucky grinned at him.

“Tony?”

“Well, I don’t suggest flying her out in the middle of labor.”

“No shit,” Bucky muttered, flipping the knife in his hand.

“Hulk’s clearing a path. When I say, you take her out of here. Blast the back wall, get her to the jet as fast as you can, get her to the closest bunker.”

“We’re barely holding it here,” Tony snapped. “Not putting you down a person. Nat and Clint-“

“Will need help keeping the way clear. Sam’s got to focus on Darcy and the baby. We’re covering your retreat with Phil, they need a heavy hitter with them!”

“Go, Tony.” Bucky grinned at him over his shoulder. “Steve and I got this.”

Tony hesitated, even as Phil shot two more HYDRA agents right between the eyes and said, “Tony, Darcy is the most vulnerable, not only because she’s in the middle of labor, but also because she’s been on bedrest when she hurt her back, since being pregnant means that she can’t have X-rays. You don’t really have much of a choice, Tony, not if you want to get her somewhere safe to have this baby, because it is coming, no matter how bad the timing is.”

“She obviously has her mother’s timing.” Tony made a harsh noise, not liking the situation but knowing it had to happen. “Fine, I get it. I’ll do it.”

*~*~*

“Hey, you’re... going to be fine, just fine, just hold my hand and breathe like in those classes you made all of us attend with you,” Sam soothed as he held onto Darcy’s hand, each contraction causing her to squeeze painfully at his hand.

Natasha let out a snarl as she twisted, kicking one HYDRA agent hard enough to probably rupture something as she drove her knife into another’s windpipe. Arrows flew with fatal precision before Clint dropped down and began to use hand to hand, grabbing arrows as he went. “Boy, I wish this baby would STAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHP!” Darcy screamed, kicking at the coffee table.

Sam nodded, even as he brought up his handgun and fired twice. “Why did Thor and Jane pick this week to go to Asgard?” Darcy moaned as she slammed her head back, Natasha snapping a HYDRA agent’s neck while Clint broke another’s nose.

He probably killed him, even, considering how he drove the heel of his hand up like that. Sam didn’t hesitate to throw himself over Darcy as an explosion rocked the building. “I swear to _God_ if they are trying to kill us via dropping a building on us, I’m gonna rip their throats out,” Darcy snarled before she let out another scream.

“Okay, I know I said no drugs, but now I think this was a _bad_ idea!” she groaned and clutched at Sam’s hand.

“Alright, time to move,” Tony said, appearing in the doorway. “Hulk’s made us a nice big doorway where there wasn’t one, let’s make use of it before it’s full of HYDRA idiots.”

“I swear to... Mew-mew, if you made a big doorway for a whale joke, I’ll use Mew-mew on you once Thor gets back!” Darcy groaned as she tried to get up, even if having Sam on top of her made that a little difficult.

“Nat!” Sam shouted as he carefully wrapped an arm around her shoulders, as well as wiggling the other under her legs.

Natasha immediately slit another HYDRA idiot’s throat before she rushed to Darcy’s side. “What’s wrong?” she inquired.

“We need to make a chair! Copy me,” Sam ordered as he ducked his head over Darcy’s as bullets hit the spot above their head.

“At least they aren’t using World War II HYDRA weapons,” she muttered as she copied Sam, glancing over to the doorway where Clint had grabbed a gun to fight off HYDRA.

“Don’t jinx us,” Tony muttered. He kept glancing back to check on them, even as he worked with Clint to keep HYDRA back.

“Time to move,” Sam ordered as another spray of bullets narrowly missed them as he lifted with Natasha, Darcy screaming with another contraction as she squeezed them both.

“We got you, hun, we got you,” Natasha promised as they began to rush towards where the Quinjet was parked.

Darcy groaned and continued to curse the lack of drug choice, even though she knew she would probably not remember how much agony this was later. She twitched a little as both Sam and Natasha suddenly knelt down simultaneously as a crackling sound followed by blue light streaked over their heads. “Oh, you’ve got to be _kidding_ me!” Darcy groaned as her head flopped back, Sam shifting to take Darcy’s full weight as Natasha pulled away slightly.

“Told you, jinxed us.” Tony took out the guy holding the weapon. “Fucking HYDRA.”

“I’ll remember that for the future!” Natasha shouted as she shot at a HYDRA idiot while Clint shot at the canister of the HYDRA goon who was about to start up their flamethrower.

The resulting explosion had Natasha ducking to retake Darcy’s weight as Clint tore off for the Quinjet. “Move move move!” Clint ordered, Sam and Natasha followed as quickly as they could.

“Wait! What about Phil and Bucks and Stevie?” Darcy groaned.

“They’re fine! Focus on breathing,” Sam responded, even as Natasha tightened her grip on Darcy.

“They’ve got Hulk with them, they’re tough,” Tony assured, keeping up with them. He kept looking back though.

“Trying to convince me or yourself?” Darcy groaned as Clint remotely lowered the ramp, ignoring as he nearly got shot with the blue light.

“What’s with the blue glowy shit?” Darcy muttered and screamed as another contraction ripped through her.

“HYDRA,” Natasha answered as she nodded at Sam, who quickly took all of Darcy’s weight, grunting slightly, before he began to rush up the ramp, Natasha turning on her heel to fire back.

“Romanov, you’re needed up here!” Tony snapped as he fired his repulsor at the HYDRA idiots. “I’m here to cover your asses, so get yours on board already.”

Natasha hesitated and then ran up the ramp as Darcy screamed again, ducking to avoid a hit to the back.

*~*~*

Clint and Tony were in agreement.

They weren’t leaving their lovers, or Bruce, behind and while Sam and Natasha were with Darcy, who was still in labor, Clint and Tony made the decision to take the Quinjet and go get Bruce (at some campground) and then go to the Tower to pick up their lovers.

A bit more literal lover _s_ in Tony’s case than Clint's, but tomato to-mah-to.

Getting Bruce had been simple and easy. Tony, exhausted and battered (and suitless), had handed Bruce a set of spare clothes while the exhausted man smiled up at him tiredly. “Come on old man,” Tony pressured, gently pushing Bruce toward the ramp.

“We have a few more people to collect before we get to relax in our super-secret bunker and make silly faces at Darcy’s baby,” Tony stated.

“Oh? What is their name?” Bruce asked.

“No clue, move it,” Tony demanded as Bruce hurried up the ramp, having it close up behind them.

*~*~*

The Tower was a lot of rubble. A good contractor was going to have to repair it before they moved back in, but it was mostly intact.

Which didn’t explain the _quiet_ the filled the Tower.

Clint prepped his bow and Tony armed himself with Bucky’s spare guns. Bruce settled back, his exhaustion making him useless in the upcoming fight, if there was one.

Considering who they were and who they had just fought, it was entirely likely that they were going to have a fight on their hands.

The pair began to carefully clear the floors as they worked their way back to the start of the fight. Clint saw a glimpse of what could be Steve’s shield, but Tony’s wail of pure pain confirmed it.

Clint didn’t hesitate. He grabbed Tony, the shield, and then dragged a completely catatonic Tony out of the Tower, hoping that with some proper back-up, he would be able to keep Tony from flying off and doing something reckless once he came out of it.

*~*~*

Natasha brushed her fingers through Darcy’s tangled hair, carefully, glancing over to smile at the little baby girl Darcy had managed to push into the world. The bunker they had retreated to had a maternity ward, for one, but it had been a close call, in that she had almost given birth in the Quinjet.

She looked up when someone entered and frowned upon seeing Clint. “What’s wrong?” she asked softly.

She knew that Banner had called for a pick-up earlier, that Clint and Sam had taken the jet to grab everyone. For him to have that look on his face… it was bad.

“Bucky, Steve, and Phil are all missing. We picked up Banner first. Guess he wound up in the middle of nowhere and de-Hulked before finding a campground and payphone. We went back to the Tower and… and we think they’ve been taken by HYDRA,” Clint stated and Natasha clutched at Darcy’s hand as it registered she had just lost family members again.

“Where’s Tony?”

“Sam’s trying to talk him out of taking off. Haven’t heard anything explode yet, so I’m assuming he’s at least marginally successful.”

“Lack of explosions doesn’t mean lack of action,” Natasha murmured softly as she continued to run her fingers through Darcy’s hair, gently working out the tangles.

“Its Tony. Explosions are necessary when he goes off the wall. Think of a name for the baby?” Clint responded before he focused on the baby sleeping in the hospital crib next to the bed.

“Marie Lewis. She says the middle name is up to me, but she’ll never forgive me if I name the baby something that is out of a Russian novel,” Natasha murmured softly.

“Damn straight,” Darcy mumbled as she shifted to cuddle against Natasha.

“You should be sleeping,” Clint stated.

“No. Where’s Phil? Where’s Bucks? Where’s Stevie?” Darcy demanded, blinking sleepily up at them.

Clint immediately began to look around, hoping to find a way out. He didn’t want to be the one to tell Darcy that they lost them, didn’t want to be the one to tell Darcy they were probably captured by HYDRA, especially with Bucky’s history. “Where are they?” Darcy demanded, trying to sit up, even if it meant that she had to fight the agony of muscles that had never been worked before screaming about how much they went through just a few hours ago.

“We don’t know,” Natasha answered as she eased Darcy back.

“What do you mean you don’t know? How can you not know?” Darcy demanded as Natasha carefully pinned her to the bed.

“Darce, you have to relax,” Clint stated and winced at his wording when Darcy glared at him, though she looked back at Natasha when she carefully drew Darcy’s attention back to her.

“Your body needs rest. And we don’t know because… they disappeared after the fight, or during it. We think HYDRA has them. But, once we have a plan, and some idea of where they were taken, we’re going to get them back. So long as Tony doesn’t fly off the rails first,” Natasha answered calmly.

“Well, bring him in. He has to meet Marie anyway,” Darcy mumbled as she slipped back into sleep while Natasha let out a sigh.

“I’ll corral them all in here,” Clint promised and left, knowing Darcy would keep Natasha here.

At least until she was awake enough to ask Natasha to spend at least _some_ time looking for their missing family members.

*~*~*

“Tony, this will not help them,” Sam stated, crossing his arms slightly as he watched Tony pace in full armor.

While he hadn’t gotten to him quickly enough to keep him from getting it _on_ , at least he was keeping him from taking off.

And getting him to take it off… would not happen.

Sam didn’t have Bucky’s skill in just getting Tony to listen and he didn’t have Steve’s special brand of stubbornness. Heck, sometimes he didn’t even have his own brand of patience, but right now, he had to convince Tony to at least put the suit up until they could use it.

“Tony, going off half-cocked will only get you in trouble. Specifically? It will get you caught by HYDRA, with your tech in their hands. You’ve seen what they’ve done with _Schmidt’s_ tech. Do you really want to see what they’ll do with yours?” Sam inquired and Tony stilled, staring at him like Sam had betrayed some secret trust.

“I can’t….” He went back to pacing, hands twitching at his sides every few seconds. “What am I supposed to do then?” He gestured expansively. “Sit on my ass and wait? I can’t do that, Wilson.”

“At least wait for us to make a plan.” Sam held up his hands when Tony glared at him, hoping Tony would just hear him out. “Clint and Bruce can go with you, but they need time to recoup. Especially Bruce, after waking up in the middle of a state park de-Hulked. Darcy’s gonna have to be talked out of doing something, you know it.”

Tony grimaced.

“Um, if you two are having some sort of argument, I can come back… if I can, because Darcy might actually rip my throat out. She wants Tony to meet his niece,” Clint interrupted.

“Which you can’t do in that suit,” Sam was quick to add. “And I don’t suggesting pissing Darcy off right now.”

“Yeah.” Clint nodded. “Don’t do it.”

“Because if you get Darcy pissed? Then Natasha will get pissed. And… I don’t want both of them pissed. It is scary. I still have nightmares from last time,” Sam continued.

“Fine.” Tony finally got out of the suit, movements rough with anger, and adjusted the clothes underneath it before giving Clint a look. “Well? Lead the way, Legolas.” He followed behind Clint, Sam right behind him, like he expected Tony to make a break for it if he wasn’t surrounded. Tony tapped his fingers against the reactor, not focusing on where they were going but different plans for getting the others back.

Natasha looked up as the group entered and slowly stood up. “Sit next to Darcy,” she ordered, pointing at Tony before she flicked her finger towards the hospital bed.

She waited for Tony’s response before she walked around the hospital bed to Marie who was starting to fuss a little and picked her up out of the hospital cradle. She murmured soothingly in Russian as she cradled the baby girl close, and then walked back over. “Sam, move Tony’s arms for me,” she ordered, patiently waiting for either protests or Sam’s obedience.

She would not let Tony get away without holding his niece, as well as maybe get him checked out medically. And the best way to keep anyone still was a baby.

And Darcy, who was shifting to get closer to Tony’s voice.

“Yeah, no,” Tony was saying, eying them all nervously. “I don’t do kids, sorry, cute and all but not - do not touch me Wilson, I swear to - I will hit you, I will.” He stood up quickly, walking back with large steps until he hit the wall.

“Shit, fuck,” he gasped, bending over. The fingers that had been tapping rapidly at the reactor curled, scratching desperately over the top of it and his shirt.

“Tony, breathe. In for four, hold for eight, out for eight, remember?” Sam soothed as he talked Tony down from his panic attack.

Hopefully.

As Tony started to breath, however, Sam smiled gently. “Yeah, you know Natasha. She refuses to listen to you, especially when she’s obeying Darcy. Darcy trusts you,” Sam soothed gently, eying Natasha, whose face was stone.

“Darcy would trust Doom, given the right circumstances,” Tony snapped.

“Only to piss off Richards. I can almost guarantee Doom will do _anything_ if it’ll piss off Richards. All I have to say is, ‘Doom, doing this thing will piss off Richards’ and he does it. How do you think I get us through Latveria every time we have to enter that airspace? That is how. He falls for it every time,” Darcy mumbled.

“Now hold your niece before I have to crawl out of this bed to sit behind you and do it. And come over here so I can cuddle with the both of you. I want cuddles,” Darcy demanded.

“You can have cuddles,” Tony muttered, easing back over and carefully sitting next to her on the bed. “I am not holding the newborn.”

“Fine. Give me my newborn baby girl and you can help me hold her, how is that?” Darcy muttered, making grabby motions as she shifted enough so she was leaning against Tony’s torso.

“That’s probably the best deal I’m going to get out of you, isn’t it?” His lips twitched in some semblance of a smile. It was strained, but he put the effort in anyway.

“Damn straight,” she answered as Natasha settled Marie in Darcy’s arms before she reached over to start shifting Tony so he was holding Marie by proxy.

“Tony, this is Marie Lewis. Nat still needs to give a middle name, but that’s because Clint semi-waived his rights,” Darcy answered.

“I merely donated the genetic material. I hold no paternal rights to said child. That’s Nat’s job,” Clint responded, grinning when she smacked him upside the head.

Tony snorted quietly, looking down at Marie for several moments before closing his eyes and burying his face in Darcy’s hair. His breathing was shaky, just enough that Darcy could hear it, and she leaned against him a little more.

“You still have uncle duty birdbrain,” Darcy answered cheerfully, leaning against Tony and ignoring when Sam took a picture.

“I love being an uncle. I will happily be an uncle. I will not be a father,” Clint retorted.

Well, mostly.

“That hits the internet, I will kill you,” Darcy stated cheerfully as she brushed a finger along Marie’s cheek.

“We did make a pretty cute kid,” Clint added. “Like, really. Way to go us.”

Tony huffed into Darcy’s hair. “Real modest there, aren’t you Katniss.”

“Completely! I mean, the baby’s bald, but I am sure she’ll get my luscious locks soon,” Clint responded and Darcy snorted.

“First of all, if _anyone_ has luscious locks around here, it is me. Second of all, of course she’s bald. Most babies are bald. It means she won’t go bald later in life, since all her baldness will have happened as a baby,” Darcy explained happily.

“Not sure that’s how it work,” Sam chuckled.

Darcy shrugged. “I just know that studies say kids that are born bald are least likely to be bald when they’re old and gray. Just because I give my own explanation doesn’t mean it doesn’t have any bearing on things,” she responded.

Before Sam could answer, however, a song began to play through the medical room. _“You’ve blown it all sky high, by telling me a lie! Without a reason why, you’ve blown it all sky high!”_

“Tony, stop messing with my phone,” Sam ordered, even as he pulled his cellphone out, answering it.

“Hello?” he asked.

 _“Tell Tony and Clint that Phil and I are fine. But, they were after Bucky,”_ Steve stated and Sam blinked in surprise before he looked up at the group.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So this is basically all finished, except for maybe some bits and pieces much later on that we still need to go fill in, and breaking it all down into chapters. Not sure on an update schedule, yet, but we'll figure it out and let you all know!


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So we're figuring weekly updates, to give us time to double and triple check chapters for continuity and minor errors and whatnot. So updates on Saturday. Which is today.
> 
> Enjoy.

When Steve and Phil had come to, they were in the middle of nowhere.There weren’t any buildings nearby, no lights, not even a road.

Just a lot of trees and mast.

For Steve, it was almost like he had been dumped back in time, except Phil was there, looking slightly drugged still, as well as _pissed_ , which was a slightly frightening sight to see. Steve had never seen Phil actually pissed and Steve still thought the look was strange on his face. “They took my phone, they took my weapons, and they took my shoes,” Phil muttered as he tried to stand up, only to fall back.

“I hope you have your shield still,” Phil stated and Steve glanced around, before he shook his head.

“Missing,” Steve answered and Phil made a wounded sound.

“Must HYDRA desecrate all that is sacred?” Phil muttered and Steve decided to pretend like he hadn’t heard him, even as he winced through the headache that pounded against the inside of his skull in time to his heartbeat.

“Come on Phil, Buck….” Steve answered only to fall silent upon realizing that they were alone.

Bucky was nowhere to be seen. The last Steve remembered, the Hulk had seemingly disappeared, his loud roars having faded from hearing several minutes earlier. There hadn’t been anything they could do to find out what had happened; they had been pushed back into one of the spare bedrooms, HYDRA agents crowded at the door. After that… things were a bit fuzzy. He could only assume somehow they’d been knocked out, taken, and… dumped here. Except that _Bucky wasn’t here_ _._ Which meant….

“Phil, we need to move. They took Bucky,” Steve stated as he tried to haul Phil up on his feet.

“We shouldn’t move till we get our bearings,” Phil argued, even as Steve hauled him up.

“Do you remember what happened?” Steve inquired.

“I think they filled the room with some sleeping gas and grabbed us all. And then dumped _us_ when they felt they were safe enough to do so,” Phil explained as he used Steve as support.

Well, that might have been generous. It was more like Steve had completely taken Phil’s weight and was about to just start hauling him across the nowhere. “Steve, we need to know where we are,” Phil stated.

Steve just ignored him and started walking, helping Phil at every step. After several minutes, he decided that it was taking far too long, far too much effort. He stopped and glanced down at Phil, weighing his options.

“I don’t like that look Steve,” Phil stated when he noticed that Steve was staring at him.

“This is taking too long and the longer HYDRA has Bucky, the longer he has to fight them _alone_ _!_ We can’t leave him alone, Phil,” Steve answered and knelt down in front of Phil.

“Up,” Steve ordered and Phil took a step back.

“What?” he asked.

“Up, onto my back. It’s the only way we’ll keep you safe and get anywhere fast enough,” Steve stated and Phil opened his mouth, only to lose his voice.

He tried a few times before he scowled, flushing slightly as he sat down. “One second,” he muttered and took off his socks. Steve watched curiously as he gathered some large rocks nearby and dropped them down to the toes of his socks, knotting the tops firmly with sharp tugs.

He then removed his belt and handed one knotted closed sock to Steve. “Use that if we run into anymore HYDRA idiots,” he stated, wrapping the part of his belt without the buckle around his right hand, twisting away from Steve to do some experimental swings before he slowly stood up, wincing as the bottom of his bare feet touched unknown dead matter.

“Now, you can run around like a chicken with its head cut off,” Phil stated as he, carefully, climbed onto Steve’s back, burning with embarrassment.

He was going to cut HYDRA off at the _knees_.

Hopefully Clint never learned of this. Phil would _never_ hear the end of it. Ever.

*~*~*

It was nightfall by the time they found a gas station. “They better have shoes,” Phil grumbled, still holding onto Steve’s shoulder.

The socks were ruined, of course. Stretched out by the weight of the rocks, they would probably have tiny shards dug in there, and Phil would _not_ be putting them back on. “You think they’ll let you buy shoes?” Steve asked as he knelt down so Phil could stand on the concrete, which wasn’t nearly as hot as the asphalt, which, still, had the heat rising up from it in visible waves.

“If they don’t I may actually have to consider robbing a convenience store. Oh, that would be ironic,” Phil muttered as he headed inside, ignoring the way Steve was probably laughing at him a bit.

He ignored the college aged woman at the counter, instead padding over to where he saw flip-flops, which were the bane of his existence, while Steve headed for the counter. “Excuse me, miss?” Steve greeted and he heard her make a squeaky sound.

It sounded suspiciously close to the sound Phil had made when he had learned they had found Steve in the ice. Probably the same pitch and everything.

“Hi,” she squeaked out.

Phil was sure Steve was smiling, but he wasn’t looking away, just trying to find some flip flops that were _not_ a complete embarrassment. “Hello. I was wondering, may I borrow your phone?” Steve asked gently.

“Of course, Captain Americ… Rogers… sir,” the woman answered and Phil tugged on a pair of flip flops.

Oh, this was… this was horrible. He truly hated these things.

Especially with the… rubber. He twitched and decided these were good enough, finding the inner pocket with some cash in it, removing the abominations before he walked over to find the woman staring at Steve in a daze. “Don’t worry Miss, everyone reacts like that,” he promised and she looked over at him, black hair nearly whipping around hard enough to smack her in the eye, face a tad darker now.

“Everyone,” Phil promised as he began to work the flip flops out of the packaging, money on the counter.

He couldn’t believe he was buying flip flops, even as Steve told someone that they wanted Bucky. “Hold on a second,” he said, then pulled the phone down to his chest, tilting back towards them. He leaned an elbow on the counter, smiling at the woman.

“Sorry to bother you again,” he said. “But, uh, we actually have no idea where we are.” He made an embarrassed grimace that somehow was absolutely charming.

She nodded, swallowed, and stammered, “Uh… Stow.”

Steve smiled and glanced down, biting on his lip for a moment before adding, “Uh, state?”

“...Maine?”

“Thank you so much,” he said with a beatific smile (which had Phil’s _own_ stomach do flips while his mouth dried out slightly, because that _smile_ did _things_ , things that should be illegal and he _really_ needed to spend more time with Ms. Potts and Natasha if he was thinking like Darcy and Clint combined), before turning away again and going back to his conversation on the phone.

Phil shook his head. “Everyone, miss, I promise,” Phil stated, even as he tugged on his flip flops, the packaging being left on the counter. She blinked, nodding a bit faintly, and rang up the flip flops, eyes constantly flicking over to Steve again, wide and dazed. She fumbled the phone when he passed it back to her with another smile and a “thanks.”

“I wonder if Stark will come help pick us up or if Clint will be alone,” Phil mused as he picked up the twenty to give to her, wincing over the feel of the rubber.

He hated flip flops. “Tony Stark?” the woman asked, sounding…

Sounding _almost_ like Tony had when he had learned that Thor’s Jane (for lack of a better descriptor) was _Jane Foster_. “Yes,” Phil stated, leaning away slightly as the woman practically seemed to light up.

“I have every scientific and engineering journal article printed on him _ever_! He’s brilliant!” she exclaimed, practically bouncing in place and seeming to have completely forgotten about Steve.

Steve chuckled, leaning a hip against the counter. “He is,” he agreed. To Phil, he said, “I’m sure he will be, you know how he is. I’m surprised he’s actually still there.” His brow furrowed. “This isn’t going to be….”

“Either Darcy or Sam have him pinned in place. Or they used Darcy to keep him in place. Stress is bad for her right now,” Phil responded calmly, resisting the urge to frown at his feet.

“We should probably get water and food. You, will eat whatever I give you,” Phil stated, glaring at Steve briefly before he walked over to find food.

Food that could be called food at least. Not packaged chips. He found a hot dog thing in the back and brought both up front, along with water. “I’ve had worse,” he told the woman when she shot the food a look.

“Those have been there all day,” she stated.

“But they are fully heated, which is better than some situations,” Phil responded and shoved a hot dog at Steve.

“Eat,” he ordered.

Steve sighed, not bothering to argue (he’d eaten worse too, day-old hot dogs that were at least hot were not even on the _list_ ) and started eating, mechanically. Phil smiled at the woman, who sighed and rang him up for those, too. “What about some coffee?” she asked. She eyed them. “You could probably use it.”

Phil glanced at Steve, who shook his head. “No thanks,” Phil said. “We’re good.”

They went to wait outside, leaning against the wall in a small patch of cool concrete and staring out towards all the trees, a dark mass against the rapidly darkening sky. Steve finished his hot dog quickly, downed the water in one go. Phil offered him his, too, but Steve refused to take it. Not even a stern glare seemed to work, Steve just crossed his arms and didn’t look at Phil. He gave up with a sigh and drank some more himself.

“Sam said it’s a healthy baby girl,” Steve said abruptly. “Marie Lewis.”

“That will probably be the first thing to tell Bucky. Along with the acknowledgement that Natasha still hasn’t picked a middle name,” Phil responded gently.

“Marie sounds like a Clint thing, however. It is probably one she picked off a list that she probably told him to make and lied through her teeth about everyone making one. I may have walked in on him making the list and asking me if she would kill him if he put, ‘Elvendork’ down as a name,” he added.

Steve snorted. “Elvendork…. Jesus.” He shook his head and let out a sharp breath. “Bucky… he was so excited, Phil.” His head fell against the wall. “He kept talking about the baby and how he hadn’t held one before that he could remember. He told Darcy,” he laughed. “He told her he was going to teach her to shoot a gun.”

“I’m sure Darcy told him that he would have to pry that training out of her cold dead fingers. Or maybe she conceded to his firearm knowledge,” Phil responded softly.

“They were going to have a competition and whoever won got to teach the kid.”

“Natasha and Clint as judges?” Phil asked, carefully rolling the water bottle around in his hand.

“Yep.” Steve nodded. “Tony offered to rig it. He didn’t say for who though.”

“Bucky. He would always rig it in Bucky’s favor. Clint was plotting ways to sabotage it however.”

“They’re so….” Steve huffed a laugh. The small smile slid right back off though, and when he opened his eyes again they were hard. “We’re getting him back. We’re going to get him back, Phil.”

“I never doubted it for a moment, Steve,” Phil answered softly as the sounds of the Quinjet filled the air.

Tony was off of it before he should have been, hair being twisted every which way by the wind. He didn’t run, but the minute he was close enough he slumped right into Steve, mumbling inaudibly. Clint wasn’t far behind.

“I see all it takes to get you into flip flops is getting kidnapped by HYDRA,” Clint stated with a grin that was strained around the edges.

“Abducted. And yes, that is all it takes. I want them off soon, so you won’t get this image for long. Anyone else come with you?” Phil responded.

“Nat stayed with Darce, along with Sam, and Bruce is still recovering. Just Tony and I,” Clint answered as he stepped forward and Phil grabbed his t-shirt and tugged him into a hug.

Clint buried his face into the crook of Phil’s neck and breathed in deep, clutching at his suit. His partially destroyed suit.

Phil buried his fingers in Clint’s hair and hummed gently. “It’s alright, I’m here, I’m alive, I’m safe,” Phil murmured as he held on tightly to Clint.

“Don’t ever be abducted again,” Clint ordered into his neck.

“I hear and I obey,” Phil muttered into his hair.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here you guys go, chapter three....

Darcy was sleeping, curled up on the hospital bed, and Natasha was standing next to the hospital cradle, carefully rocking Marie. “How are they?” Steve asked softly, surprised Darcy was even sleeping, and Natasha shrugged.

“Darcy’s worried. It has been a week since Bucky was captured and I know she’s...well, we’re heading back to the apartment at the end of this week. Phil is insisting on us keeping Lucky in the apartment, which I am not against, especially with the updated Dog Armor Tony gave him. I think he is basically imbued with superpowers at this point, and I know Pepper, and Maria, will be happy not to be watching either anymore. Sam is already plotting a… counseling session for after he’s been brought back, and all of this is culminating with Marie being exceptionally fussy,” Natasha answered calmly, Marie making whining noises, as if to prove her point.

“Gimmie,” Darcy mumbled, stretching and reaching out for Marie, Natasha helping to settle Marie in Darcy’s arms before settling her glasses on her nose.

“Oh, hey Steve,” Darcy mumbled as she threw a towel over her shoulder and adjusted her hospital gown under it.

Steve blinked and then sighed softly when he realized what she was doing. “I saw that a _lot_ in Brooklyn if you are hiding it from me,” Steve stated as he fully entered the room, Darcy snorting slightly as she cuddled Marie close.

“I like the cover, just so you know. But I promise, if it was just to save your delicate sensibilities, of which you have none, I would pull off my towel,” Darcy answered and Natasha chuckled before she leaned over to brush a kiss against Darcy’s forehead.

“Well, Steve is here. I’ll go onto Tony watching duty now,” Natasha stated and Darcy hummed softly.

“Because he needs more watching than Steve,” Darcy stated idly and Natasha merely gave a sound before she walked past Steve, tapping his bicep as she passed.

“Watch them,” she ordered and then she was gone.

Steve hesitated and then walked over to sit next to Darcy on a free space on the bed. “When she’s done, do you want to hold her?” Darcy asked quietly.

Steve nodded, even as he watched, shuddering as it hit him that Bucky was taken. Gone, stolen from him, and he curled over, surprised when he felt Darcy bury her fingers into his hair, carefully. He sucked in a breath, holding back the sob building in his chest until it hurt. Bucky should have been there with them, hogging Marie (because he would) and joking with Natasha and Clint and referring to himself as ‘Uncle Bucky.’ He wasn’t though - and it was hurting all of them. Steve let the breath out, slow and measured, because he was _not_ breaking down just yet.

When he felt in control again, he straightened, offering a strained smile to Darcy. She smiled back, so understanding that Steve felt like he teetered on the edge of losing it before he renewed his grip on everything.

Darcy finished feeding Marie, adjusting under the towel before pulling it off and slinging it over a shoulder. She lifted Marie carefully to burp her before passing her over to Steve, who took her with extra careful hands.

His face softened with affection, holding her close to his chest with easy, familiar skill.

There had been times Steve had never thought this would happen for him - a family. Before the serum, when he’d been sickly; when he realized for the first time there was a chance - a good one - that he wouldn’t make it out of the War; when he woke up and realized that his entire world was just gone, that he was some kind of legend and just as untouchable to so many people.

But he had a family now, and it was even better than he’d ever dared imagine. And it was growing.

He smiled over at Darcy. “When did you get so good at holding babies?” Darcy asked softly.

Steve looked fondly down at Marie. “Oh, there was a whole pack of kids whose parents worked. Us older ones would kind of run herd on the little ones. I was usually too tired from being sick or my asthma was too much to really keep up with them, but there were a few really small ones I could distract with some kind of drawing. Then Bucky’s ma had another kid, this little girl, and so I’d just carry her around while she ran errands or picked up a shift somewhere.” He snorted. “When I could steal her from Bucky, at least.”

“Bucky did a lot of hogging the little ones then?” she asked softly, shifting to carefully rest against Steve’s side, slowly to make sure she didn’t accidentally jostle Marie.

“I bet she was a little hellion, Bucky’s sister,” Darcy added softly.

Steve grinned. “She had four older brothers, that girl could throw a mean punch by the time she was four and get away with anything just by batting her eyes. And yeah, Bucky liked kids. He’d not admit it but he loved them. Was known for his piggy back rides.”

“I knew someone like that, when I was younger,” Darcy stated with a grin as she shifted to curl a bit around them reaching down to run a finger along Marie’s cheek, the week old girl shifting slightly, but slumbering on in Steve’s arms.

“She’s the one who first taught me how to fight,” she added with a tiny shrug of her far shoulder.

“Yeah?” Steve glanced at her, smiling softly. He looked back at Marie. “Guess it’ll be no question if she’ll know how.”

“Yeah, and me and Nat are going to be the only ones who are able to resist the puppy eyes when she turns them on everyone,” Darcy stated as she closed her eyes, letting the feeling of partial safety ease her towards dozing.

“Ugh, I’m gonna hate being in the apartment when you all go save Bucky,” she mumbled as she slumped fully against Steve, slowly slipping back into sleep.

Steve carefully eased away from her, slowly enough that she’d likely not wake up, and placed Marie in her cradle. He went back over and shifted Darcy so she’d be comfortable and kissed the top of her head.

“Just need to keep you guys safe. Can’t lose you too.”

“We won’t Steve, I promise,” Tony stated from behind him. Steve glanced over as Tony pushed from the door, coming over to wrap his arms around Steve tightly. “We won’t… we’ll get him back, and we won’t lose _anyone_.”

Steve cradled the back of Tony’s head. “Okay,” he agreed.

*~*~*

“This is the third rumor,” Natasha stated and Phil sighed, his shoulders hunching slightly at the reminder.

“I know Natasha, but this one… this one comes from a reliable source,” Phil stated.

“He hasn’t slept in three days, trying to hunt down all rumors via satellite,” Natasha continued, crossing her arms. Her chin raised, eyes narrowing a bit.

“I know,” Phil confirmed softly.

“It has been _one month._ ”

“One month, one week, and three days,” Phil rattled off and Natasha blinked at him.

“I’ve been keeping track, but I _promise_. This lead… this lead is good,” Phil promised and Natasha let out a long sigh.

“I’ll give the call to Assemble,” Natasha stated and turned on her heel, leaving Phil to his holotable, debating calling or texting Darcy, who was at their apartment (with Jane, who had returned only last week with Thor to… _this_ ) before she pocketed the phone.

There was no point, not until Bucky was safe with them again.

Hopefully, he would have a whole and healthy family to return to.

*~*~*

Everyone was on edge, but Tony, Natasha thought, was on the verge of breaking. Steve had to keep a hand on his shoulder to keep Tony from flying off, since he’d already put on the suit. He ended up almost bouncing in place, repulsors making a faint whine with a ready charge.

“Come on, we’re not getting any younger,” he grumbled.

Phil sighed and seemed to steady himself. “I got… reliable word that Bucky is being held just outside the north-eastern border of Latveria, specifically the Hungarian-Latveria border. Supposedly, it is a lab by… Emerson Industries, but there is… every indication that has us believing that it is only a front for HYDRA. My… source believes that Bucky has only been there a few days, at most, not the entire time. Wherever he was before, my source doesn’t know. Just that… he got moved, recently, and he probably won’t stay there for long,” Phil explained softly, eyes never leaving Tony or Steve as he spoke.

“Doom won’t let us into his air space, however, meaning we’ll be taking the long way around, unless someone wants to ask Darcy to pave the way for us, which I do not question nor do I ever want to know the answer to how she does that,” he continued, waiting for any reaction from Tony or Steve that wasn’t anxiousness or impatience.

It wouldn’t do, after all, for the idiots to get themselves killed before they even got close to Bucky.

“How much more time would going around add?” Steve asked, jaw clenching and then unclenching every few minutes.

“Two hour flight time, four hour drive time. The… clearance would involve Darcy getting Doom to allow us to land within his territory and allow us to get to the facility from his side of the border. We think part of it might be he won’t like HYDRA muscling in on his territory without splitting the profits with him,” Natasha answered.

“How do we know he won’t stab us in the back?” Tony said, voice tight. “We don’t know….” He broke off, swallowing thickly.

“Darcy seems to have a way with him, which I try not to think about. Generally it seems to involve saying the magic words, ‘It’ll piss Richards off,’ but you’re right, we can’t be sure he won’t turn on us. But we won’t be able to get closer if we come from the other side of the border,” Phil explained softly before he fell silent, trying not to think of the one time he walked in on Darcy dealing with Doom.

No one needed to know about that.

“Either six extra hours on top of regular flight time or we hope Doom doesn’t stab us in the back,” Natasha picked up when Phil fell silent.

“I….” Tony trailed off, glancing at Steve with an obviously helpless expression, too tired and stressed to bother hiding it like he normally would have.

Steve stared back, raising a brow, and Tony shrugged.

Nodding, Steve looked back at Phil. “See what Darcy can do. We’ll just have to be on guard, plan for any betrayal.”

Natasha sighed, but nodded and pulled out her cellphone, thumb unlocking and dialing before anyone could change their mind. It was obviously not Darcy that picked up when Natasha responded to, most likely Jane, with a simple, “I need Darcy.”

“Now, please, Dr. Foster,” Natasha continued as she leaned against the wall.

“Darcy, we need you to work your magic on Doom,” Natasha stated.

“Yes, I know… Yes, I know… Darcy, darling, Bucky is… supposedly being held just over Doom’s border, on the border shared with Hungary. It’ll be faster if we can be _in_ his territory to make the raid on the laboratory holding Bucky… Yes, I know… All right. Call me back, no matter how it goes… Don’t be so cocky about the fact you can get Doom to help, because I am sure I will not like how you do it and I don’t buy that it ends with, _it’ll piss off Richards_.” (In the background, she could hear Tony mutter “Fucking Richards,” right on cue.) “Everyone has a limit to how that often will work… omitting Tony,” Natasha continued, rubbing her temple.

“All right, love you too, go… sweet talk Doom and I never want to say that again,” Natasha answered and hung up.

She rolled her shoulders and shook her head. “I don’t ever want to know,” Natasha stated as Phil nodded in agreement.

*~*~*

Darcy let out a long sigh and tugged out the spare cellphone. She mentally recalled everything that she could remember about Richards and she made the call.

 _“Lord Doom’s Palace in Doomstadt, how may I be of assistance?”_ a feminine voice, different from the last one, echoed over the line and Darcy resisted the urge to sigh.

She had _just_ finished training the last one to just hear, “This is Darcy Lewis,” before being transferred directly to Victor. “This is Darcy Lewis, of Stark Industries Research and Information Center. Please inform Lord Doom that I am in need of a favor and willing to pay upfront for it,” Darcy answered, glancing at the door, listening for her baby and Jane, briefly, before Doom’s accented voice carried over the phone.

 _“Miss Lewis, an unexpected pleasure to hear from you again, and so soon. How is the baby? Boy or girl? Did you take Doom’s advice to name the child Victor or Victoria?”_ Doom greeted and Darcy swallowed back bile at the fact he knew she was pregnant, even though she had never told him.

She had done the same the first time she called him after getting pregnant as well. “She’s healthy. And no, I didn’t name her Victoria, but it did cross my mind,” Darcy answered, being honest.

Victoria was a strong name, on the list of ones Clint had pulled out (along with _Elvendork_ and if she hadn’t laughed so hard, she would have killed the archer), but she had decided against it purely because of Doom.

 _“Oh, pleasantries aside, how can Doom help you today Miss Lewis?”_ Doom stated.

“I need you to allow the Avengers to land on your side of the Hungarian-Latveria border,” she answered and she could almost hear Doom’s thoughts screech to a halt.

 _“This is not something Doom can **give** you,”_ Doom stated.

Darcy took a deep breath. “The lab is one of HYDRA’s, operating close enough that they may start to encroach on your territory and take what is yours,” Darcy stated and she heard Doom make a sound that could be a snort, if he wasn’t such a… something she was sure had a name, but the baby killed her brain cells.

 _“Doom can easily crush them. Why do the Avengers wish to enter Doom’s country?”_ Doom inquired and Darcy shook her head.

“Crushing is well and good, but do you really wish to expend that much energy for one tiny little lab?” Darcy responded.

 _“Why should Doom let the Avengers in, Miss Lewis? There has to be a reason you are not just dropping Doom a line, as it were, but requesting a **favor** ,”_ Doom continued.

“If I give you something on Richards will you stop asking?” Darcy asked and she heard the soft creak of Doom reclining in his chair.

 _“Doom is listening,”_ Doom stated.

Darcy inhaled slowly and licked her lips before she focused on what would get Doom to stop his questions. “Richards… Richards has a machine, a stable one, for dimension… glancing. It allows you to look, one way. It is powered by ruby quartz, which he doesn’t have right now. He needs to buy them. The ruby quartz is what makes it stable. Using anything else, which he will because he’s stubborn that way, may make portals, which will… distract various teams, Fantastic Four among them,” Darcy stated, closing her eyes as the admission passed her lips.

Ugh, she sometimes hated this, mostly because she knew that over half of the stuff was something that could come back to bite the Avengers, but… most of it was done to run the Fantastic Four ragged. “And it’ll _really_ piss off Richards,” she added and Doom chuckled darkly.

 _“Doom grants his permission for the Avengers to do so. Tell them that they are to attack that lab **only** and that they should not turn their attentions to **Doom’s** country,”_ Doom stated.

“Thank you, Lord Doom,” Darcy answered.

 _“It is, as always, a pleasure to do business with you Miss Lewis. And please, you must tell Doom how your daughter is doing next time we talk. Doom thinks she might like a birthday present from the ruler of a country,”_ he stated and hung up, Darcy shuddering.

She inhaled sharply as she did the same and shuddered again, Marie’s distressed noises starting to come from the door.

She pulled out her normal cell phone and typed out a text as she walked back out. _U r in the clear. Get him back baby._

 _Please never use chat speak again_ was Natasha’s lovely response the next time Darcy had a spare moment to check her phone.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And here's chapter four for you all!

Steve grabbed Tony before they left the Quinjet, letting everyone slip ahead of them.

“We’ll get him back, but I need you to do something for me.”

“What?” Tony asked, looking at where the others were gathered, distracted and anxious. Steve grabbed his face between his hands, thumbs rubbing against the horribly dark bags under his eyes. He wished he could help Tony more somehow.

“Stay safe. Please, I don’t want to get him back, only to lose you instead. Just… stay safe and be careful.”

Tony’s eyes went wide and he nodded seriously. “I will. I promise, Steve, I’ll be careful.” He paused, then added with a slight grin, “Well. Careful for me.”

“Okay,” Steve sighed. “It’s all I ask.”

Tony leaned close, so their foreheads were touching, and squeezed Steve’s waist firmly. They stood like that, for just a moment, and then both stepped back, ready to get Bucky back.

“Make them regret it,” Tony said as he walked past the others, readying for take off. The mask slid down with a final sounding, somewhat foreboding clink. As he took to the air, Natasha turned to Steve.

“Is he going to actually follow the plan and listen?”

“Yes,” Steve said calmly, still watching Tony. “He will.”

“I don’t know, man,” Clint mused, fingers trailing over his bow string. “You’ve seen how he’s been. He’s chaotic at best right now. Hell, he’s chaotic on a normal day. When _you_ went after Bucky last time, you tore down an entire spy organization. Tony….” He trailed off, looking at them pointedly.

Steve finally looked at the rest of them. “That’s why Tony’s part of this focuses on getting to Bucky and getting him back here. Get him in and out as fast as possible.”

“And keep his hands full.”

“That too.”

*~*~*

Jane frowned slightly as she looked over the tablet, pretty sure that JARVIS shouldn’t be showing her their route, even as she glanced over at Darcy.

She sometimes forgot how formidable her part-time assistant was in getting things to go her way, often having used dirty back-alley tricks to get Jane the funding she would otherwise be denied for one excuse or another that boiled down to the fact Jane was a woman. The fact she now turned these same ‘tricks’ to the business where she seemed to be a glorified secretary made Jane wonder if any of them _truly_ knew who they had working for them.

“Dr. Foster, Sir is on route to the HYDRA base now,” JARVIS intoned and Jane quickly looked back at the tablet.

“Right. And I’m just to send notification if he goes ‘blaze of glory’ on everyone?” Jane responded.

“Yes Dr. Foster. Normally, Darcy would be doing this, but it seems she is suffering from ‘Baby IQ Drop Syndrome’ and is having difficulty mentally keeping up,” JARVIS stated.

“I am not slow, just tired!” Darcy snapped and Jane waved her hand impatiently at Darcy.

Darcy made a rude sound before talking to Marie.

*~*~*

Clint was careful as he picked the arrowheads to load up into his quiver, debating some and forgoing others. He had already turned off his hearing aides and instead had insured his sunglasses were in place, activating them surreptitiously as he did so.

He rarely used them, but it seemed like a better idea, especially since he suspected that there were going to be a lot of explosions going on and his hearing aids and explosions did _not_ mix. He turned when he felt a presence behind him, the subtle heat of another human body, and he smiled when he saw Phil there.

 _“You good?”_ Phil signed.

 _“I’m good,”_ Clint returned and Phil nodded before he focused forward, already pulling together a plan with Steve.

Good.

*~*~*

Natasha resisted the urge to text Darcy.

Darcy was fine. Marie was fine. She had to think up a middle name for Marie.

No.

Focus. Mission.

Get in, destroy HYDRA base, retreat with Bucky.

Mission first, middle name second.

It was going to be… fine.

*~*~*

There was a disturbing lack of cameras as Tony continued deeper, which meant JARVIS wasn’t as much help as Tony’d have liked. But still, it wasn’t difficult to get to where they’d all agreed Bucky was most likely being kept. The guards didn’t have any weapons that could penetrate the armor, and were confused when their radios didn’t work, and it was _nothing_ for Tony to cut his way through them.

Probably he should have been more concerned one way or the other if he killed them, but that’d be wasting time. The longer he spent thinking about that kind of thing (Steve probably would, which was why he was a better person than Tony), the longer Bucky was in HYDRA’s hands.

Shouts came from the end of the hall and Tony sighed impatiently. “JARVIS,” he said, not even needing to specify, and the agents down there were locked targets, little concern. He turned left, shoving through a locked metal door, uncaring of the scratches it added to the armor. Absently, he aimed at the guard barreling around the corner, blowing up his gun in his hands, the explosion a distant sound as he shot down the stairs as quickly as he dared.

“Come on, come on,” Tony muttered. “Where are you….”

Ah, look, a scientist instead of a guard, had to be getting close. Closer. Tony knocked the woman out of his way, sending her crashing into something that shattered like glass, though he’d not noticed any. The hallway branched and Tony spared a glance for the not-map on his HUD.

The damned place was a maze. Hallways that went nowhere and dead-ends and roundabout ways of getting anywhere.

He went left, ducking when JARVIS advised to, popping up to throw the guard back down the hall, knocking down another. He fought the urge to kick them while they were down, because that would waste time. (He wasn’t all that sure he’d stop, either.)

“Iron Man, what’s your status?” Steve asked, only the smallest hints of strain in his tone. Tony doubted it was from the fighting. More likely, it was from waiting or Tony not being there to keep an eye on or his own stress about getting Bucky _home._

Tony bit back a curse at an unexpected dead-end. Backtracked a bit, took the turn he should have.

“Busy,” he snapped. “I’ll let you know when I have him.”

He turned a few more corners - left, right, straight, right - before finally growing impatient trying to find a door or way through the damn halls to where he wanted to go.

Quickly, Tony calculated the straightest shot to where they believed the room to be, the integrity of these walls, the force of his weapons.

Bracing himself, he blasted out the wall in front of him and shot through before the debris finished falling, let alone dust settled. An alarm blared. Tony knew that hadn’t been part of the plan - now they knew he was heading here, knew that the rest were a distraction - but he had been taking too long.

It took blasting through two more walls to get to where he wanted to be.

And thankfully, Bucky was _there._

Tony didn’t know what he’d have done if it’d been another false lead. If they’d gone home without him, again. But there he was, unconscious, looking worse for wear, clothes that he’d been wearing gone and replaced with drab, thin sweats - or it looked like sweats, what did Tony know. All he knew was that that was his Bucky, surrounded by guards and a few scientists.

Really, Tony hoped no one asked him what happened next. It was washed out in a haze of cold fury, the likes of which he hadn’t felt since he first became Iron Man, with the death of Yinsen, with the betrayal of Obadiah, with having all that naive ignorance torn away and being so damn angry with not just the world but himself.

He was pretty sure that even if they were alive when he carefully lifted Bucky into his arms, not one person in that room was going to last much longer. Tony tried and failed to feel any remorse.

Without being asked, JARVIS scanned Bucky, noting the somewhat sluggish pulse, but no obvious outward damage.

“Got him,” Tony murmured. “Pulling out now.”

Tony glanced around briefly and then, carefully holding Bucky close, looked around. “JARVIS, plot the fastest, safest, way out of here,” he ordered.

 _“Of course, Sir,”_ JARVIS intoned and immediately the schematics of where they had gone and what JARVIS could pick up from cameras and orders being shouted into walkie-talkies, began to instruct Tony in how to get out of there without hurting Bucky.

 _“Exiting through your created entrance shall be your best bet, sir. From there, it will require a great deal of speed and luck,”_ JARVIS stated.

Tony took a deep breath and focused - focused past the fact that Bucky was with him, that they were almost safe, and instead on the information JARVIS had scrolling across the screen.

“Be ready to move quickly, because I’m not slowing down,” Tony warned.

“We’ll be ready,” Steve assured gravely.

Tony made sure his grip on Bucky was as secure as possible and then rushed out of that damned room. It was easy enough to follow his way back through the busted walls, and he tried to keep track of any guards that could pop out from hallways or when he turned a corner. Mostly he just kept thinking _'_ _Get him out of here, get him out of here.'_

*~*~*

Clint aimed for the front door, the explosive arrowhead timed and released on Captain’s orders.

It sailed perfectly and hit the small seam where the door met and he barely had time to give a warning before it blew open the doors, drawing notice throughout the lab that they were under attack.

That was the point, of course, but he could tell that Natasha hated it, that obvious attacks just drew more fire. And with Marie….

He frowned and shot a guy through the eye with a normal arrowhead… right up until it exploded and Clint winced.

 _'Pay attention Barton,'_ he mentally scolded as he focused on the task of downing the threats to his team as the Hulk roared, charging right into the fray.

He settled more in himself as a storm gathered overhead, Thor landing right on a tank that was rolling out of an underground parking lot.

Without even pausing, Clint released an arrow and had it sink into the HYDRA flamethrower goon’s canister.

If he survived the initial explosion, those third degree burns were going to _suck ._

*~*~*

It was rare that Natasha fell into her meditative pattern as she fought, focusing not on disabling, but killing each opponent that crossed her path.

Some she just killed out right with a bullet through the head, throat, and chest. Others only got punched in the throat.

But they would not leave this field alive.

*~*~*

Steve didn’t have the luxury of retreating into automatic movements. He needed to keep his head, check in with Tony, make sure no one was getting close to Jane, Darcy, and Marie back at the apartment, but Sam was with them, so they were safe.

He had almost come with them, but the need to leave someone behind to guard Darcy and Marie was high, especially as Jane still hadn’t, technically, passed the required Stark Industries Research and Information Resource Center’s field arms test.

Steve also trusted Sam, trusted him to keep Marie and Darcy (and Jane) safe from whatever dangers could come if HYDRA went after those they left behind, and…

Alarms went off within the lab, just as Jane said, _“He just blasted through a wall.”_

“Thank you Dr. Foster. Natasha, try and guide the Hulk in! Tony’s blown this operation up,” Steve ordered and he saw Natasha shoot a flare gun into the air before turning and… huh.

“I did not know flare guns had two shots,” Steve stated and Dr. Foster’s confused voice reminded him he was still on an open line to everyone.

He quickly shut off the comm and _slammed_ his shield into the head of the nearest HYDRA soldier.

Time to step it up a notch.

They had to keep the HYDRA soldiers from leaving to go assist wherever Tony was. They had to seem like the bigger threat, more immediate concern. If they could draw them all here, clear the way for Tony, then half the battle of getting Bucky out was done.

It’d have been a lot easier if Tony had stuck to the plan and stayed _subtle_ _,_ but Steve had wondered how long that would last. He’d planned for it, knowing Tony as he did.

So. The Hulk.

And misleading them into thinking that they were more than just a distraction. Most of that hope was kind of lost, but maybe….

“Nat,” he said. “We need to them to think we’re here for something besides Bucky. Info or-”

“On it,” she said, rising from where she’d twisted a guy into the ground, dashing smoothly through opponents towards the computers.

Hulk burst through into the lab with a roar, grabbing two HYDRA soldiers in his hands and slamming them together before tossing them aside. Steve figured they were definitely a bigger concern than Tony now, because Hulk look very determined to smash through all the soldiers in reach.

He looked away when a scream cut off quickly from the soldier in Hulk’s hands. He had to focus, because they had to do this _right_ _._ No chances, no mistakes. He wasn’t risking _anything_ ruining this operation.

Steve settled into the motion of an intense fight, the push and pull and way it flowed, so that it was almost a surprise to hear Tony speak for the second time since they went in.

“Got him. Pulling out now.” There was a short time of quiet from Tony that Steve used to signal to Clint and Nat, glancing around to find Thor in the room. “Be ready to move quickly, because I’m not slowing down.”

“We’ll be ready,” Steve promised. He flung his shield at the soldier engaged with Thor, drawing his teammate’s attention to him.

“He’s coming in fast, we need to be moving by the time he gets here,” Steve said when Thor came closer.

Thor grinned. “Certainly.”

With a nod to Steve, Thor quickly moved back into the battle, lightning crackling around the hammer as he swung it, the air crackling and heating up as he hit a soldier and sent him flying, just as an arc of lightning leapt from the hammer, slamming into a group that were surging towards where Natasha had disappeared to.

“Coulson, Tony’s got Bucky,” Steve explained.

 _“I heard Captain. I have the weapons primed and the Quinjet ready to fly,”_ Coulson replied.

“Hawkeye?” Steve stated.

 _“Yep,”_ Clint responded and Steve decided not to scold Clint on turning off his hearing aides again.

“How do we down this place?” Steve questioned.

 _“I’ll call for all clear,”_ Clint stated and suddenly his form was taking off, using one of his arrows like a strange knife as he fought his way through and disappeared into the depths of the lab.

“Clint, you get caught…”

 _“Won’t,”_ Clint replied and then it was radio silence.

Steve focused on fighting again, already drawing the rest of the Avengers back from the fighting, watching as HYDRA began to fall into the depths, possibly to try and stop Tony and…

No thinking about that now.

Get everyone out and...

There was a blaze of red and gold, heat filling the air and Phil’s, _“Iron Man clear,”_ and Steve was ordering them _out ._

 _“Workin’ on it,”_ Clint slurred slightly and Steve frowned.

 _“Go Cap!”_ Clint ordered.

Steve hesitated and then he was running out, slowing upon seeing that there were people scurrying towards the blasted open doors. “Clint,” Steve stated.

 _“Got another way out,_ **_go!”_ ** Clint ordered and Phil was yelling, but Steve was already having Hulk and Thor help him block their entry into the lab.

 _“Barton, I swear to God if you are doing what I think you are doing, I will skin you alive!”_ Phil yelled and there was silence. _“This is Bosnia again, isn’t it? Why are you doing Bosnia again?”_ Phil demanded.

“What’s Bosnia?” Steve demanded.

 _“Clear!”_ Clint shouted and this was followed by cursing and Steve was retreating with Thor and Hulk.

The lab exploded. Dust billowed out of the underground garage entrance and Steve stilled when Natasha began to curse Clint in Russian and Phil made a wounded sound. Thor frowned and was moving before Steve could even ask, Mjolnir was crackling and a rock was blasted apart.

“Ow,” Clint groaned and Steve sent Hulk back to the Quinjet as he followed Thor to collect a bleeding, obviously with broken limbs, Clint.

“Don’t tell Phil,” Clint asked.

 _“I am going to kill you,”_ Phil snarled, even as Thor somehow picked Clint up in a way that somehow didn’t further damage him, though he did hiss in pain.

“We must hurry Captain,” Thor stated and Steve nodded, retreating from the dark before he turned to where the Quinjet was starting to touch down closer to where they were.

 _“Barton is a deadman,”_ Natasha warned.

“Not today,” Steve muttered as he walked up the ramp after Thor, the ramp folding up, the weapons deploying on the smouldering wreck before the Quinjet pulled back and began to fly back to Avengers Tower.

Steve clapped Phil on the shoulder as they stabilized in the air, turning back to the rest of the plane and making his way to where Tony was still in the suit, the faceplate up. He was staring at where Bucky was strapped in securely on a med cot. Steve settled in next to him, unable to keep from looking Bucky over and taking note of each and every thing that seemed wrong. Too still, too pale, dark circles under his eyes…

“We should be back to the base soon. It’ll give Bruce time to recover, and he and Sam will take care of him,” Steve said, glancing only briefly over to where Bruce was curled up with Natasha watching over him.

“I know,” Tony muttered. He didn’t look away from Bucky. “Kind of waiting for this to not be real,” he admitted, so quiet Steve knew none of the others would hear.

Steve reached over and grabbed Tony’s hand, even though he wouldn’t feel it through the gauntlet. Tony finally looked over at him, so tired and still scared. Steve leaned over and pressed their foreheads together.

“We’ve got him, we’re taking him home. It’s going to be okay now.”

Tony smiled thinly. “Yeah. Yeah, you’re right.”

“Try to get some sleep,” Steve said, knowing he was pushing it, but hoping that now that they had Bucky back, Tony would take better care of himself. “I’ll be here, I’ll wake you up if he does, I promise.”

Tony was quiet for a while before nodding a little. He shifted, settling, his head falling onto Steve’s shoulder.

Steve kept hold of his hand, and kept watch over Bucky.

*~*~*

It was quiet in the medical room since Tony finally left to shower and eat. Steve hoped that Tony wouldn’t just grab a protein bar or an apple and claim he ate, but he knew it was likely. Still, it was improvement over how he’d been when Bucky was missing. Steve was hoping that tonight he’d be able to convince Tony to actually get some sleep - decent, real sleep - by pointing out that when Bucky woke up and saw him looking like shit, he’d be vicious in lecturing him.

Sam tended to pop in and out, checking on Bucky presumably, but most likely keeping an eye on Steve and Tony. Sam seemed to be keeping a closer eye on Tony since it had all started, and Steve had wondered what had brought on this sharper focus but never asked. If it was important, Tony would tell him.

He dragged his pencil over the paper, sketching mindlessly. It was good to be back in the Tower - Pepper had made sure contractors fixed the damage and everything had been clean and ready for them. She showed up once to check on them all, hugging Tony tightly before stepping back and turning to Phil, talking about Resource and Information Center business.

Steve and Tony had all but collapsed into bed that first night. It hadn’t been quite right, not without Bucky in there with them, but it was so much easier to catch a few hours of hard sleep. Steve had woken up to Tony on his tablet, talking softly with JARVIS, something about upgrades and security measures.

His pencil jerked across the page when a soft sound broke the quiet, and he looked up quickly to see Bucky sitting upright slowly.

“Hey,” he breathed in relief. “Glad to see….”

He stopped breathing, eyes wide, when Bucky looked at him. It was just like that day under the bridge, the mask having ripped away and Steve looking up to see the Winter Soldier turn around and having the face of his best friend, of someone he’d thought he’d lost, not looking much older at all. Looking completely confused, “Who the hell is Bucky?” not recognizing anyone or anything.

That wasn’t _Bucky_ on the cot.

That was the Winter Soldier.

The Soldier stared back, making no moves to attack, just watching Steve with unsettling blankness.


	5. Chapter 5

Darcy was sure, once upon a time, she knew how to make tea.

Right now, however, she couldn’t even remember what the thing that helped make the tea, which she was holding in her hand, was called. She sighed and rubbed her temple with her free hand, Marie’s soft sounds that were going to grow into an _impressive_ wail starting in the living room.

It _became_ a wail when the apartment phone went off. “Fuck!” Darcy shouted as she dropped the metal thingy that helped make the tea and grabbed the phone, answering it even as Marie began to cry. “Lewis Apartment of Madness, how may I help you?” Darcy greeted as she pinned the phone between her ear and shoulder as she quickly made her way to Marie, who was sobbing harder and Darcy, barely hearing what someone was saying on the other end, focused on calming Marie down as she carefully lifted the babe up.

“Wait, what?” Darcy asked, catching the words _Bucky, relapse,_ and _how_.

_“Bucky relapsed. We don’t know how,”_ Steve stated and Darcy held on a bit tighter to Marie.

“Okay. Do you need me to send you Nat? I can send you Nat. I can do that. I just… you need me? Does Tones know? Oh, by Odin’s beard did you tell me before Tones? If you told me before Tones I will not be happy Steve,” Darcy stated, even as she gently bounced in place enough to keep Marie down to a low whimpering instead of an all-out wail.

Her hungry wail, not her ‘wah loud noise’ wail.

_“No, no, told Tony. But yeah, send Nat, thanks Darcy,”_ Steve answered and then he hung up.

Darcy blinked at the phone, Marie’s distressed, _hungry_ cry starting up and Darcy dropped the phone, focusing on Marie. Feed baby while texting Nat, yes, good.

Then figure out what the metal thing was for tea and make tea.

With that, she quickly began to focus on getting Marie settled before she fished her cell phone out of her pocket, smiling at the way Marie latched on so well. “Yeah, even if you make Mommy lose a few IQ points, it is okay, because you are so cute,” Darcy stated as she focused on getting texting to work.

_Nat, get to Tower. Jimmy relapsed. Steven told Anthony._

She was so glad she had set her auto-correct to Code Mode before her brain became mush. “Yeah, Mommy Mush. Why isn’t Nat affected?” Darcy grumbled as she glanced down at Marie to make sure she was still okay before the phone vibrated in her hand.

She opened the text.

_On my way. You two okay?_

*~*~*

Nat paused only to make sure that she understood the message as best as she could, saw that Sam was with Steve and, after only a few moments of thought, veered off to take care of Tony. “JARVIS?” she called.

“Sir is in his workshop,” JARVIS stated and Natasha nodded.

She was in the elevator, trying to think over how best to talk to Tony. How did Steve break it? She wished Darcy was here. Darcy knew how to talk to Tony, no matter his state, no matter how much he tried to evade and ugh, he’d retreated already?

“Next HYDRA agent I find, I’m putting a stiletto through their throat in such a way that they’ll die a slow and painful death by bleeding out and choking on their own blood,” she growled as she made her way down, pausing briefly to collect herself up.

She breathed in, held herself still, and then moved forward, towards the lab, surprised when it opened to her code. “JARVIS?” she questioned.

“Sir is not in lockdown at this time,” the AI said carefully. It made her pause, but only a moment.

Natasha nodded and entered the lab slowly, wishing she had changed into her Widow suit, had gone to ground, pulled herself up and around. She felt vulnerable, walking into Tony’s place of safety without being safe herself, but knew…

She wanted Darcy. Darcy could do this, Darcy could talk to Tony and she didn’t have time to pull back and call Darcy and ask how to face a Tony that….

That was sort-of acting like a depressed Tony, but not really.

If he was in denial, Natasha was calling Darcy. She’d watch Marie, Darcy could work with Tony. “Stark?” she called, mentally flinching on how she had retreated to using his last name, and Tony’s head snapped up.

He looked exhausted still, even though she knew he’d gotten some sleep at some point, and rather surprised to see her. Blinking a few times, he frowned and glanced at a screen briefly.

“Nat? What are you doing here? Is Darcy okay?”

“Fine,” she said slowly, trying to figure out what didn’t fit quite right. It was almost as if….

Even Tony wasn’t _that_ good at denial, was he?

He looked relieved, and then even more confused. “Did you need something?”

“I came to check on you,” she decided to admit, because sometimes it was easier (less of a hassle of going around in circles) to just cut to the point with him. His expression cleared and he shrugged.

“It’s better now that he’s home. I’m not….” He seemed to struggle to find the right words.

“Panicking over the smallest little thought of how wrong it could go?” Natasha offered, knowing that something was completely off, and Tony gave a small nod and little wry smile.

“Yeah that. I just came down here to make sure there wasn’t anything pressing. Catch up on the news feeds, make sure they’re not claiming we’ve deserted post or - hell, something equally stupid. Also, I wanted to double-check J’s security was rebooted right, can’t let that happen again. Gotta fix that at some point.”

Had Steve... _not_ told Tony? Oh, God, she was not prepared to break the news to Tony. She hesitated before she walked forward as Tony continued to talk. She wavered briefly, then carefully placed her hand over his, and he slowed down, still talking but staring down at her hand on his like it baffled him. His words trailed to a stop and she watched him swallow sharply. A very fine tremble could be felt under her hand, and his breaths came lighter, almost but not quite shallow.

She swallowed and tried to think of how to phrase this, gently turning Tony to her. “Stark...Tony,” she started and paused, before she took another breath.

“Tony, Bucky relapsed,” she stated, deciding to just cut to the chase, because… because she couldn’t dance in circles and if something had happened to Darcy, if Darcy was turned against her, turned into a mindless weapon, she’d want someone to just _tell her_.

To not dance in circles. “Bucky is the Winter Soldier, as Steve first met him, again,” Natasha continued when Tony remained still and silent under her hand for a long time.

He came to life in increments. His brow furrowed, lips twitched down, hand pulled out stiffly from under hers. With a small, almost subconscious shake of his head, he took a step back. “No, that…. No.”

“Tony,” Natasha murmured softly, in a way that was sort-of like the way Darcy did on occasion, but she did not chase him like Darcy would have.

He finally looked at her, angry. But after just a few moments, he seemed to read something on her face because it sifted away. He swallowed compulsively, eyes going wide, desperate. “That’s… Nat,” he said weakly. “It’s not funny, don’t….” His breaths came light and fast, unsteady. “Please tell me this is a fucking joke. Please.”

Natasha watched him, wishing for Darcy, even as she shook her head. “Tony, my jokes are all ‘In Mother Russia’ jokes or old man jokes. Bucky relapsed. We don’t know why yet,” Natasha answered calmly, taking an experimental step towards him, seeing if he would allow her close or if she was going to have to get Darcy anyway.

Maybe having a baby in the Tower would keep Natasha from taking a skillet to Steve’s head for lying to Darcy and putting Natasha in this situation in the first place.

“That….” He took a deep, steadying breath. “I gotta tell Steve,” he muttered, distressed. He turned back to a screen, saying, “JARVIS, where’s-”

“He knows,” Natasha interrupted calmly.

Tony froze. “He called Darcy,” Natasha continued, knowing that if she didn’t tell Tony, Darcy would, or someone else.

Secrets didn’t stay secrets long around Tony. He had a way of digging them out, beyond JARVIS.

Tony shook his head, almost wildly. “No. No, Steve would _tell me_ , he’d -” He twisted around, facing Natasha again, and pointed a finger in her face and she stayed still through pure willpower. He looked furious - it’d be easy to think he was, except there was something almost fragile about it. “Steve wouldn’t fucking keep that from me, he’d, he’d _tell me_ , okay, he wouldn’t - Nat, he wouldn’t….”

“He called Darcy and she told me that he had already told you. Sam had Steve, and since Darcy isn’t here, I came to you,” Natasha answered calmly, taking another step towards him, watching him carefully.

She wasn’t Darcy; she could try to keep Tony together as best she could, but she _wasn’t Darcy_. Hell, she wasn’t _anyone_ Tony really trusted like he trusted Darcy (and Rhodey and Pepper, but more Rhodey level, possibly), but she had to try.

She owed that to them both.

Tony’s arms curled around himself, just a bit, like he wanted to but was trying not to, and his fingers rose to rap-rap-rap across the reactor in a broken rhythm. “Why do you care?” he muttered spitefully, looking away. Then he flinched. “Sorry.”

“I deserved that,” Natasha admitted softly, slowly crossing to Tony, but willing to stop if he moved away from her.

He watched her from the corner of his eye, skittish, but didn’t step away when she came in reach. Natasha hesitated upon reaching him before she carefully shifted to wrap an arm around his shoulders, surprised about how close in height they were.

Tony always seemed so much… _bigger_ than her.

She thought he’d stay stiff under her, so when he all but slumped into her with a low, broken noise she had to quickly adjust her balance to compensate. His voice was thick, quiet.

“He’s… Bucky….” With a sharp breath, he said, “How bad is it? Do you… did Steve tell Darce?” There was a strange note - not quite jealousy but something like it - that crept into his voice.

“Just relapsed, but for Steve to have asked for me means that it is, most likely, back to being the Winter Soldier. The… the weapon,” Natasha answered softly as she gently tried to comfort Tony in a manner that was not borrowed from anyone.

She managed to find her just running her fingers, lightly, over his hair, too worried her sharp nails would give him a flashback. Probably too close to somebody, but she just wanted to… help.

Tony still flinched, however, but he didn’t try to pull away. “Do you want to sit on the couch?” Natasha asked softly.

Tony did pull away immediately at that, straightening his clothes and clearing his throat. He sniffed once, sharply, and raised his chin just a bit. “No, I’m fine. I’m fine, I… there’s stuff, we… I’ll set up a….” He trailed off, lost for a moment, face twitching towards grief before smoothing out again into that almost cocky, very calm mask. “You go help out the others, they need it more. I’ll make sure Bucky’s floor has what he’ll need, and up JARVIS’ security protocols there.”

“Tony, you are allowed to be… upset,” Natasha stated, but let her voice trail away as Tony walked away from her.

He would not listen to her, had closed himself away, and Natasha knew that, as much as she wanted Darcy to come fix it all, Darcy was in no _state_ to come fix it all.

Tony walked over to a screen and spoke a bit louder than necessary to JARVIS, as if to discourage further conversation. His hands shook the entire time, and he steadfastly ignored it.

“Alright Tony. Call Darcy sometime, okay? She’s been feeling lonely with just me and the baby,” Natasha stated and turned on her heel, walking toward the door calmly, even though she wanted to storm out of there.

“JARVIS?” she called as the lab door locked behind her, her fury at Steve making his name tremble slightly.

She hadn’t been this out of control in a while. It was… frightening.

She was never telling Darcy _Tony_ got her to lose control.

“I shall keep an eye on Sir, as always,” JARVIS responded and Natasha gave a nod before she made her way up to where Steve was, grabbing a pillow from the couch as she crossed through the movie room.

*~*~*

“Steve, everything is as solid as we can make it for Bucky,” Sam stated and Steve nodded slightly as he tried not to get distracted by the fact Bucky….

Buck… Bucky was _gone_.

“Steve, you can’t put it off any longer. There’s nothing more you can do here, right now, and-,” Sam insisted, leaning forward.

“I know,” Steve muttered, “I do. I just want to-”

Something big and blue smacked Steve in the face. It didn’t _hurt_ , but it startled him because he hadn’t expected it. As it fell - a pillow? - into his lap, Steve glanced at where it came from and saw Nat standing there.

Looking livid. “I am _not_ pleased with you,” Natasha hissed lowly as she glared down at Steve, as if she were taller than Thor.

Steve just stared, still a little shocked and confused. “Wha… Nat, I didn’t-”

“Didn’t is the key word of that sentence,” Natasha responded coldly.

“I don’t understand,” Steve sighed, rubbing his forehead. “Can it wait? I need to focus on helping Bucky-”

Sam sighed, shaking his head a bit.

“More than just Bucky. Goes back to that ‘didn’t’ portion of the sentence,” Natasha stated.

Steve still looked confused, but there was a wariness to it now. Darcy had sent Natasha over, after all, and that’d been… longer ago than he’d realized. Natasha took a deep breath and pinched the bridge of her nose. “Have you been _here_ the entire time?” she asked, with the spot between her eyebrows furrowing as she pinched her lips together tightly.

He looked defensive, glaring a bit. “Where else am I supposed to be, Natasha? I’m not just going to abandon him here alone!”

Natasha’s nose flared slightly at that and she stood up even straighter. “But you’ll abandon Tony?” Natasha asked.

“Of course not!” Steve snapped, muscles tight. “How could you even _say_ that?”

“Then why were you here, and not the one to explain to Tony that the Winter Soldier has returned?” Natasha responded, her jaw tense as she stared at Steve, eyes sharp and one hand flexing slightly.

“Uh guys,” Sam interrupted. “You may want to cool it, or at least take this somewhere else.” Following his gaze, they could see the Soldier standing in the doorway, watching them, tensed and ready for some kind of action.

Natasha made a sound and rubbed her thumb against the spot between her eyebrows. “Okay, well, I told Tony about the incident, because Darcy told me that you told him at the time you called her. So you don’t have to worry about it anymore,” Natasha explained and frowned a bit.

“He said the Soldier’s floor will have everything we need and now has retreated further into his lab,” she added with the tiny shrug.

Steve grimaced. He wanted to get mad - but he had no right to, and he knew it. Bracing his hands on his hips, Steve stared at the floor.

“Okay. Okay,” he repeated on a sigh. “Sam? Do you think he’d be good to be moved or should we… wait?”

Sam shrugged, glancing over at the Soldier and then back at the other two. “We can try. We don’t really know - well, maybe you or Tony might - but there’s no way to be sure of just what is going on in his head now. Maybe somewhere else would make it less like before, maybe it’d just make things worse.”

Steve sighed. “He’s not a prisoner. I’m not going to treat him like one. We’ll move him - and be ready, just in case,” he admitted.

Natasha gave a small nod before she focused on the Soldier, who was watching them. “All right Captain, you lead, we follow,” Natasha answered and Sam gave a small nod while Natasha walked over to the Soldier.

She watched him and the way he watched her, eyes flicking from her to Sam, to Steve, though they lingered on Steve. Nat glanced between and then she said something in Russian. The Soldier glanced over at her, then back at Steve and answered her. “Can you speak English?” she asked.

“Yes,” Soldier answered.

“Good. Report on injuries?” Natasha inquired.

“Functional,” he responded and Natasha nodded.

“Good. The Captain is in command, the Falcon, Sam, is his second. I am the second from another unit. Do you understand?” she asked and the Soldier nodded.

“Good. Captain?” Natasha responded, even as she turned on her heel to walk back to Steve’s side.

Steve took a deep breath, straightening. He met the Soldier’s gaze steadily. “We have a floor for you. It’ll be your space, where you can do what you like.” He gestured, and then led the way towards the elevator. Sam and Natasha fell in behind the Soldier, who didn’t even hesitate before following after Steve, but stiffened when Sam stepped closer inside the elevator.

JARVIS stopped at Bucky’s floor, and Steve couldn’t help a quick glance around, seeing what was there. The blanket was still folded over the back of the couch, where he’d set it last time he’d found Bucky and Tony half-asleep down here. There was food on the counter, and likely in the fridge too now. Steve had no idea how Tony had gotten things ready _this quickly_ , but wasn’t all that surprised.

“If you need anything, or have any questions, you can ask JARVIS.”

“He’s a computer system wired through the whole Tower,” Sam explained, making it sound perfectly normal. “He’ll be able to help you with whatever you need, or direct you to someone who can.”

Unspoken, but very obviously heard by the way the Soldier straightened infinitesimally was that JARVIS would know if Bucky did or went somewhere he shouldn’t. Steve hated the implication that he was under constant surveillance, but there was no way to be sure about exactly how Bucky would react. Not like this.

“Very useful,” Natasha added quietly, even as she kept close to the elevator entrance.

Steve glanced back at her, but she did not move, keeping her eyes on the Soldier, who looked back over at her. She twitched one eyebrow at him, looking away from where the Soldier was walking around the living room, before she looked back. “The floor is secure,” Natasha stated but the Soldier did not listen to her.

Natasha let out a low sigh and looked back at Steve. “Do you need me Captain?” she asked as she looked over at Steve, finally breaking her watch on the Winter Soldier.

“No,” Steve said quietly. “You can go, Widow.” His eyes were still locked on the Soldier, watching him as he paced the room, eyes flickering to places Steve wouldn’t have expected. They lingered for a few longer moments at certain places, though Steve couldn’t say why, he didn’t see anything.

Sam touched Steve’s shoulders what felt like moments later - but Natasha was gone, and he suspected it had been minutes, instead. Sam tilted his head towards the elevator. Reluctantly Steve agreed.

“B-” he cut off, swallowing it back, and instead just said, “If you need anything, let us know.” He waited a moment, but the Soldier just stared at him, expressionless and still. Turning, Steve followed Sam back to the elevators, feet heavy and shoulders weighed down.

When the doors closed, he dragged his hand over his face, leaning back against the wall. “Jesus,” he muttered. “What a mess.”

Sam made an agreeing sound, watching Steve closely. “You’ll get through it Cap. It’s not like before - you’ve got people this time, more than Nat and I, and we’re all willing to help however we can.”

“I know,” Steve said. “Thank you.”

“No need to thank me, or any of us, Steve,” Sam said, clapping a hand on his shoulder. “But you know, you still have some things you need to do.” The pointed stare was impossible to miss.

*~*~*

Tony was deep in ‘repairs’ when JARVIS alerted him that Steve was outside the door. “Turn up the music JARVIS,” Tony responded and _Highway to Hell_ blared loud enough to rattle the windows.

Tony was sure that Steve stayed, but he just focused on the suit, ignoring when he sliced his thumb on something.

He was upset and he was going to stay upset till dinner.

*~*~*

Natasha sighed as she entered the apartment, feeling as if a weight was on her shoulders when she heard Marie’s little attention whine. She opened her eyes and walked over to the playpen, Darcy passed out and drooling on the couch. “Hello little one,” she greeted in Russian and Marie made another attention seeking sound, reaching for Natasha and she made a soft sound in return before she reached into the playpen and, carefully, lifted Marie.

“Have you been running your Mommy ragged?” Natasha asked softly, still in Russian, as she cradled the baby close, running her finger along Marie’s cheek.

Marie made a sound and slipped back into sleep, making Natasha smiled. “Get a picture of that for me,” Darcy mumbled sleepily and Natasha looked up.

“Will do,” Natasha stated, switching back to English, and walked over to Darcy, who was shifting so there was space on the couch for Natasha.

“She wake up?” Darcy mumbled.

“Just briefly,” Natasha answered and Darcy yawned.

“Kay; wake me up when she’s hungry,” Darcy mumbled and Natasha nodded, but Darcy was already asleep once more and Natasha held Marie a little more securely as she listened to children’s songs play from the TV, and wondered if she should tell Darcy that Steve hadn’t, in fact, told Tony.

“One of your uncles was an idiot kitten,” Natasha told Marie in Russian, but Marie only twitched in her sleep and Natasha let out a long sigh as she carefully leaned back until she could stare at the ceiling while holding her little girl in her arms, Darcy’s feet pressing up against her thigh.

“When she wakes up,” Natasha promised herself, still in Russian, and closed her eyes, dozing to get rid of that last twitch of bad feeling that came from telling Tony about Bucky.

She was going to be upset with Steve about that for a long, _long_ time.


	6. Chapter 6

The Soldier paced the floor he had been confined to, mapping out hiding places, blind spots, weapon stashes. There were places he thought might have held weapons before but didn’t now. There was only one gun, hidden so well even he nearly missed it, and a few knives in spots most would never think to look. He wondered who had been stored here before him.

Though he had the uncomfortable feeling he had missed some, he found the cameras and speakers that he assumed were linked to the security system he’d been told of. When he had discovered as much as he could of this place, he stood in the center of it all and….

There was no mission. There were others, teams, but he hadn’t seemed to be assigned to any, and so he was unclear who his handlers were. There had been contention between the Russian woman - Widow, the Captain had called her - and the Captain while they had been on the other floor. Of the two, the Widow had seemed to be clear on what he was to do and know, but now he had been left, first by her and then the Captain and his second. Left with no purpose.

He unclenched his fists and moved to the corner he’d found that had a view of most of the ways in, including the elevator, and was out of sight of all but one camera he’d seen. He sat there, with the gun and knives in his lap, and began to slowly, methodically, break the gun apart, examining the pieces before putting it back together.

The gun was in superb condition. The knives were ready-sharp.

Stashing them on his person, he settled in to wait for a handler, for a mission, for a purpose.

*~*~*

Darcy’s phone was ringing. Natasha peeled her eyes open and - seeing that Darcy was still sleeping heavily - slapped around for it. It was early the next morning - way too early for someone to be calling them.

Especially after a night of ‘baby does _not_ want to sleep.’

“I’m going to kill you,” she hissed.

_“Mrs. Lewis, I require your assistance.”_

“With what?” she asked, after a moment of surprise at hearing JARVIS. He did call them, but it wasn’t something that happened normally. Neither was him asking for her help.

_“Master James has not eaten, nor slept, since he has regained consciousness. I have assessed his vitals, and I believe it best that he eat immediately. However, I do not believe it wise for myself to speak out of turn to him, particularly at this time. Sir has only just fallen asleep and I am… reluctant to wake him, as well as cautious to send him to speak with Master James until we are aware of how he may react in this state.”_

“Fuck, damn, shit, fuck, I forgot. Fuck, I forgot. Okay, I’ll be there in a moment. I’ll get food into him, I’ll fix it, and then I will talk to the Captain because fuck. He… fuck, I will fix this, I can fix this. Or Clint could, but let’s not bring him and Coulson into this,” she stated as she got out of bed, ignoring her tired brain, forcing it into working.

She’d get coffee on the way, there was a 24 hour place close by. She sighed.

“Actually, yes, we should. Can you please send an e-mail to Phil telling him to talk to Steve about Bucky’s condition? Specifically, to tell him that he has to teach Steve how to handle Bucky like… like how he handled me in the beginning. He’ll know what that means. I’ll go handle Bucky for now, but I have like, a baby and a mother to worry about and I _can’t_ be his handler right now or I would, and I’ve got to figure out how I am going to address Darcy while heading over there,” Natasha stated as she got up, working on getting dressed one handed, checking on the, thankfully, still sleeping Marie as she did so.

 _“Of course, Mrs. Lewis. Shall I call in your coffee order for you as well?”_ JARVIS asked politely.

“Yes, please, JARVIS, thank you. I’d not ask, but right now I don’t think I could handle an e-mail. But I’ll be there soon, I’m en-route now, once I write a post-it note for Darcy and stick it on the baby’s crib,” Natasha answered as she moved.

 _“It is my pleasure, Mrs. Lewis. Thank you for your assistance.”_ JARVIS replied. The call disconnected, allowing Natasha to toss the phone back and continue getting ready.

She finished getting dressed, wrote the note for Darcy, stuck it on the crib, and paused long enough to press a kiss to Darcy’s forehead (she didn’t react), grab her keys, and was out the door, locking it tight behind her.

She had to fix the mess they had accidentally made.

*~*~*

The moment she got to the Tower, Natasha was quick to head to her floor, drinking her coffee slowly. Once on her floor she quickly headed to the bedroom and changed from something fit for a wife and into something fit for the Widow. By the time she stepped into the elevator a second time, her coffee was almost gone. She made sure her weapons were hidden and inhaled slowly as she shifted into a mindset she preferred not to be in.

“Is there soup?” the Black Widow asked as she stood in the elevator, waiting to get to Bucky’s floor, wanting to keep knife wielding down to a minimum.

The less she antagonized him, the better off everyone would be.

“Sir made sure the kitchen was fully stocked. The other night’s leftover homemade clam chowder is on the bottom shelf of the fridge, and there are several options of canned soup in the third cabinet above the counter, bottom shelf,” JARVIS answered promptly. “Bowls are in the same place as the Common Kitchen, as well as utensils.”

The elevator stopped, but the doors didn’t open right away. Natasha took a deep breath, steadied herself, and gave a nod. JARVIS opened the doors.

The Soldier was on his feet, poised and ready, in a defensible corner of the room. His hands were loose at his sides but that didn’t fool her even slightly. He didn’t relax upon sight of her, but straightened somewhat, eyes following her every move.

She eyed him in return and then stepped off the elevator, the doors sliding shut behind her. “It was brought to my commander’s attention you were not given proper orders when you were left. I have come to rectify that,” she stated and pointed to the kitchen.

“Go sit on the stool at the corner of the counter,” she ordered and waited for him to obey.

It was a strategic spot, for her, as it would allow her to keep an eye on him.

His eyes narrowed, just for a moment, and then his expression smoothed over to that nothingness that was so uncommon to _Bucky_. He walked, quick and silent, to take the seat she’d indicated for him, sitting stiffly.

She wasn’t sure if it was because he didn’t like where she’d told him to sit, or for some other reason.

Calmly, Natasha walked into the kitchen and pulled a bowl down from the cabinet, drawing a spoon out of the utensil drawer as she passed it. The leftover soup was right where JARVIS had said, and she served a good helping of it into the bowl before setting that to heat in the microwave.

As it heated up, she focused on Bucky. “Your orders are this; keep yourself functional. You will eat every four waking hours. JARVIS will you be able to assist with that or will I have to bring in a temporary handler?” she ordered, starting with the first part.

“I will be able to assist Master James with his eating schedule,” JARVIS stated and Natasha gave a small nod.

Food first, water second, if only because the water would be easier to order. She really hoped he already just went to the bathroom, but as JARVIS had informed her only that he had not eaten or slept, that might be the case. “Do you understand?” she asked the Soldier, focusing entirely on him.

He nodded once, a sharp, clear movement. The microwave dinged, so she pulled the bowl out, plopped the spoon in, and set it down in front of him. “Eat,” she ordered, watching as he did so. His movements were precise, quick, and she figured he’d probably eat a second bowl easily if she ordered him to, with how quickly this one was disappearing.

“Drink eight glasses of water a day. You will sleep at least seven hours a night. If there are any problems, you will report them immediately to JARVIS.

“If JARVIS informs you that you are in need of more food or water, you will eat or drink more. A schedule will be brought to you by the Director, whom you will meet within the next few days, that you _will_ follow except on days there are missions. Unless the Director informs you that you are to go on these missions, you will remain here and continue following the schedule. If the Director does not specify, it is a non-lethal mission until otherwise told,” Natasha stated and she opened the fridge, found a bottle of water, and pulled it out.

She opened it and poured it into a glass, before setting it down in front of him. “Drink that,” she ordered and glanced at the bowl, which was clean.

“Give me the bowl and spoon,” she added, holding her hand out for them.

Get him settled, get him fed and watered and into bed, and worry about the fucking schedule later.

The Soldier handed her the bowl and spoon and she got another bowl ready, heating that up as well while the Soldier drank the water. “You will take care of yourself and you _will_ keep yourself functional. If JARVIS informs you that you need to stop something, or you need to do something, you will do so. Do you understand your orders?” Natasha continued, wondering if she was missing anything.

She… she was used to being the mindless weapon, not the one who gave the orders.

“Yes,” he said, voice pitched… oddly, flat and lower than usual. She nodded, setting the second bowl in front of him.

Natasha was uncomfortably sure she had missed something, but had no idea what. JARVIS would have enough authority though, she thought, to keep anything from happening until Phil could get here and provide further instructions and boundaries.

She wondered if Darcy was awake yet. She still wasn’t too sure how to break the news to her, and watching the Soldier in front of her finish the water and start on the second bowl, she wondered if there was any way to really break it, properly, except to just do it. Explain just had bad it was, how they’d have to act.

Explain how Steve had fucked up, hopefully skirt just how badly Tony had taken it….

She wondered if Steve had managed to talk to Tony. If Tony had let him, if Steve had given up when he likely hadn’t, if that was going to be another problem on top of this one.

Natasha resisted the urge to rub her temples, at least now, in front of the Soldier.

The Soldier finished the bowl, sitting back and watching her. Waiting for further instruction.

Natasha gave a sharp nod. “After you finish eating any food that required the use of dinnerware, bowl, plate, fork, knife, spoon, or glass, or cooking tools, pot, pan, skillet, or spatula, you will place them in the dishwasher, which is here,” Natasha stated and she popped open the dishwasher, waiting to see what he would do.

“If there is anything left in what was used to cook the food, if you cook the food, you place it in a tupperware and put it into the refrigerator, which is here,” Natasha continued, touching the fridge as she did so.

“Do you understand?” she asked, waiting for his confirmation.

This would be useless if he didn’t.

He glanced at the places she indicated, then gave another nod. “Yes.” After a moment, he stood, grabbing the dishes and setting them in the dishwasher she’d left open. He skirted just the slightest bit around her, leaving enough space between them for some kind of reaction time. When he finished, he stood aside, watching her again and waiting.

She’d gotten too used to Bucky, she thought. This was upsetting her more than it should.

“Good. Close the dishwasher and follow me,” Natasha stated and turned to leave the kitchen, pausing when she came to the bathroom door.

She turned and waited, nodding once when she saw him. “This is the bathroom. You will use it, with the door closed, when needed,” she stated and then turned, ordering him to follow her as she looked, subtly, for the bedroom, glancing back subtly as she walked.

He did not attempt to attack her, which she was thankful for.

She did not want to see if she _could_ survive a one on one fight with the Winter Soldier.

“This is the bedroom,” she stated and walked in.

She pulled out a set of pajamas and set it on the foot of the bed. “This is what you will wear to sleep in, and this is where you will sleep, _under_ the covers,” she continued and glanced at him, at where he was watching.

“Before you go to sleep, you will change into these and, after waking up, you will change into a set of clothing placed out for you,” she stated and glanced up at the ceiling.

“Is that correct JARVIS?” she stated.

“It can be arranged,” JARVIS stated and Natasha nodded.

She focused on the Soldier once more. “The voice you heard was JARVIS. That is what I have referenced in my orders. Do you understand?” Natasha asked.

The Soldier nodded and she gave a nod in return. “Then you will go to sleep, once I’ve stepped out of the room and shut the door behind me. It is not locked and, once you have slept for at least seven hours, and dressed again, you may open the door and go about your day,” Natasha ordered, knowing she was missing something, but she did her best.

She would need to call Phil and explain what she had addressed him as and all of that. She gave the Soldier a nod and turned, walking out of the room and shutting the door behind her.

She did not stop until she was on the elevator and the door was shut and she slumped to the ground. “Is he at least getting ready for bed JARVIS?” she asked quietly as she buried her fingers into her hair against the back of her skull.

“Yes Mrs. Lewis. Thank you,” JARVIS stated and she nodded.

“Do you wish for me to relay the conversation and orders that you gave Master James to Director Coulson?” JARVIS asked and she nodded again.

“Thank you JARVIS,” she answered.

“You are welcome Mrs. Lewis. I shall get you a ride back to your apartment that will be ready once you change back into the clothes you came here in,” JARVIS stated and she nodded as the elevator began to move.

*~*~*

Tony’s neck ached when he woke up, and he should have known better than to fall asleep on that couch, no matter how comfortable. He wasn’t exactly young anymore, which was not something he liked to acknowledge, and getting a crick in his neck whenever he didn’t sleep in a proper bed was a reminder he didn’t need.

No matter how much he wanted to, how much it was his first inclination, he couldn’t hide in the workshop forever. He needed to get out and find out what was going on, what the situation looked like exactly. So Bucky was… relapsed, was the Winter Soldier again. Tony’d seen him in various states during the years, but once Bucky had told him that if he ever _really_ lost it, really slipped, that it would be so much worse. He needed to know just how bad this was, prepare himself.

Tony needed to know what he could do to help, what work needed to be done and what part he was going to be playing in this. Inaction had never been his thing, not really, and hiding in the workshop was far too close to that to be entirely comfortable.

There wasn’t anything he could do down there to help, so far as he was aware. If there was, he’d find out and get to work. If not, he’d apply his efforts where needed. Anything, so long as it helped Bucky.

He was feeling a bit guilty about ignoring Steve the other night, too. He’d still been angry - he still was, and hurt, and confused why Steve hadn’t let him know - but Tony figured that if Bucky had been… himself, he’d have been giving _both_ of them that scolding, unimpressed look. Communication - Steve had fucked up on that, but Tony had shut him out, afterward, and that hadn’t helped things. He knew that. So he’d get some coffee, and find Steve, and they’d talk about what the plan was for helping Bucky.

On a normal day, Tony knew he’d find Steve in the gym this late in the afternoon, but this wasn’t a normal day. He had no idea where Steve might be, if he was even in the Tower.

Coffee, then JARVIS could locate Steve and Tony could meet up with him. Maybe bring him something to eat, an unspoken apology for the other night?

Tony was making his coffee when someone - someone _s_ \- walked out of the elevator, talking in low, serious voices. He leaned over, just making out Steve and Coulson moving into the living room to sit. Peggy trotted into the kitchen, going to her water bowl before coming over and leaning against Tony’s leg. Absently, half an eye on Steve and the other on his coffee, Tony reached down to scratch behind her ears.

“I know you don’t like it, Steve, but this is what we have to do,” Coulson was saying. “At least for now, until we know if this is permanent and get an idea of how to fix it, or see signs of natural improvement. We’re still trying to analyze what data we did find, figure out what happened there.”

“I am not - it feels too much treating him like _they_ did,” Steve said, rubbing his hands over his face. “I’m not comfortable with this, Phil.”

“None of us really are, Steve.” Phil set a hand on Steve’s shoulder, briefly. “We care about him too, which is why you need to believe me when I tell you this. He needs orders. Very clear, precise orders. For everything. He needs a set command structure to follow. It will only make it harder on him if we treat him like before this happened.

“Natasha has gotten that rolling. Clint and I are working on a schedule so he doesn’t have to rely on someone constantly relaying what he needs to do, and when that’s finished up I’ll take it to him. She referred to me as the Director, so he’ll likely see me as the highest in command. I understand this is hard for you,” Phil said gently. “Let us help how we can.”

Tony grabbed his coffee and walked into the living room, Peggy following at his side, close enough that he worried distantly about tripping over her.

“Let them help, Steve,” he agreed with a calm he didn’t feel. “They probably know what they’re doing more than either of us do.”

Tony eyed Steve as he made a face but didn’t argue. Tony took a deep breath and let it out slowly, settling onto the couch and sipping from his cup of coffee. There was more tension now, and he hated to think that it was because he was here. He didn’t want to apologize, to hash out their silent spat in front of Phil. So he decided he’d bring it up later, once Coulson had left to do whatever. It’d be kind of rude to bring it up in front of Phil, anyway, Tony figured. You didn’t bring up relationship troubles in front of friends, right?

He was pretty sure that was how it worked.

“So what needs to be done first?” he asked, glancing between them.

Steve’s jaw clenched. Coulson glanced at him before focusing on Tony. “Like I was telling Steve, we’re making a schedule - things that he has to do every day, for how long, when they should be done. Structure is important. He needs it, right now the more the better.”

“He didn’t need one before,” Steve insisted. “Shouldn’t we be encouraging him to-”

“He did need one before,” Phil interrupted gently. “He merely managed to create his own for himself, likely after a lot of confusion and distress on his part. He was on his own for months before you caught up and brought him in, Steve. You’re familiar with a later stage of recovery than he’s at right now. He needs the schedule.”

Steve didn’t look any happier, and Tony couldn’t say he was either but Phil had to know better than either of them. He’d been there when Clint brought Natasha in, after all. Tony trusted him.

“I promise, Steve. What we’re doing will help him. I’m making sure the transition is as smooth as possible for him.”

Tony sipped at his coffee, thinking. “JARVIS-”

Phil sent Tony a slight smile. “Natasha has already made sure he knows to listen to anything JARVIS says, and that he needs to eat and sleep certain quantities.”

Tony had no idea why that made Steve shift uncomfortably, ears reddening. Before he could think to ask, Coulson was continuing.

“We have laid some basic command structure for him. Steve is in command of a team, with Sam as his second. Nat made herself second of another team; Darcy is probably going to be command there. An extra form of protection really,” Coulson added thoughtfully. “I’m Director, which he’ll know when I bring the schedule.”

“And he listens to JARVIS?” Tony tapped the side of the coffee cup.

Coulson nodded. “Yes.”

Which was good. JARVIS would be able to keep constant watch on him, make sure he was okay, be able to help if something was wrong. Tony leaned back a bit into the couch, thinking. “What can I do?”

“Nothing,” Steve said instantly. Tony looked over at him with wide eyes. He wasn’t sure quite what he was feeling, except that it was somewhat like he’d just crashed through a few walls.

“Steve,” Coulson said softly, almost warningly.

“He’s not doing anything,” Steve snapped, fists clenched on his thighs. “Outside of the suit he’s - Tony, he could _hurt you_. You don't stand a chance against the Soldier, probably even with the suit, and -”

“Hey,” Tony snapped, but Steve just kept talking, staring straight ahead.

“-you’ve said it yourself, you’re not a soldier. You’re not part of the command structure in a way he’s going to understand, there’s nothing - you’ve no reason to go near him. Just stay away from him.”

Tony could hear a vague pleading in Steve’s tone, but it didn’t make any of it better. Taking a deep breath, Tony choked down the angry retort, and carefully set his mostly-empty coffee on the table. “Excuse me,” he said distantly. He shoved his shaking hands into his pockets and turned for the stairs to his workshop.

Peggy followed right at his heels, whining slightly.

*~*~*

Phil let out a long sigh as he watched Tony walk away and shot Steve a look, pointing at him with a file. “Captain, he’ll need to know. Tony’s the only one with enough tech knowledge to do any upkeep on the arm. He’ll need to understand, and with what Nat’s set up, he’ll probably have to be under my command, more or less. I’ll go over it with Darcy when she’s awake; she’s quite good at setting something like this up. But the Soldier will need to be introduced to everyone and told that he can’t attack them, to be informed of who his allies are and to not listen to those that have _not_ been introduced, but also to not attack them or kill them, but just watch them and back away, if needed. We need to insure he _knows us_ so he does not harm us. Pushing Tony away will only hurt him, in more ways than one, in the long run,” Phil warned softly before he focused down on the schedule.

“What would you do if it was Clint?” Steve asked.

“Give him knowledge to arm himself with and trust that he’ll use it, as I do every time we do something like this,” Phil answered calmly as he flipped through a few pages, crossing out parts of Natasha’s old schedule that wouldn’t work for Bucky.

Maybe Denton’s….

“Something like this?” Steve demanded in a strained voice and Phil circled a few things on Denton’s old schedule.

“There are many ways to brainwash someone. Old fashioned ways, such as ones that have been used for a long time, enticing someone into believing only your word is law, beating the free-will out of them, various other ways that have been done since before technology that involve isolation, for the most part. There’s what HYDRA did to Bucky, and what other organizations have done to others. Bucky is a bit worse than most, but we’ve had a few as bad as he is,” Phil answered and paused in his marking of schedules.

“One was worse, actually. Still backslides on occasion, but only minorly. For now, I think Bucky is the Soldier just pulled out of cyro,” Phil continued idly as he focused back on the file, marking a few other things.

“Do you think I should put a sniper range time for him?” Phil asked and glanced over at Steve. “Might help keep him calmer,” he added when he saw how still Steve’s face was.

“Or make him worse,” Steve said tersely. “We don’t know how he’s going to react - what if there are, I don’t know, some old embedded orders or something Phil? How can we trust… we don’t know what he’ll do with a weapon, to others or… or himself.” He shook his head sharply, upset.

“Like I said, I think he’s the Soldier just pulled out of cyro. Reset, a blank slate. I doubt he’ll hurt anyone without a direct order, Steve. And JARVIS would stop him if he made moves to hurt himself.”

“Ms. Romanov ordered Master James to remain functional. He will not harm himself,” JARVIS interjected. Phil gave Steve a look, pointed and reassuring.

Steve wasn’t all that convinced, but finally jerked his shoulders in a shrug. “Okay, fine. If you think it’s wise.”

Phil nodded, making a note on his schedule. He glanced through the files again. “According to Natasha, he’s also got hand-to-hand and unarmed combat. It wouldn’t be wise to pit him against people, but supervised against dummies might work. I shall talk to Tony about moving dummies. It’ll give him something to do beyond stare at the walls and think himself useless,” Phil stated in far too casual tone to be anything but a reprimand.

He sighed and continued to work through the file. “So till we have dummies, we’ll just have him go through his moves, more or less. It’ll also give us an idea of what he can do as well, so if he _does_ go rogue, we will have the data to put him down. Or just use the Lewis Special. That puts him down for three hours,” Phil stated.

Steve grimaced but nodded. He didn’t want to think about having _data,_ or a _plan_ in place for if Bucky went completely rogue on them. He’d refused to even consider the idea back when SHIELD fell, and now he hated it even more. But he knew that Bucky would rather it be like this than there be no plan of action to stop him.

“When are you going to take that to him?” he asked quietly.

“Soon, a few days at the latest,” Phil said, closing the file and glancing at Steve consideringly. “I believe I’ll go talk to Tony now. It might be best if you collect your thoughts, for a while.” He stood up, leaving Steve sitting on the couch. When Coulson disappeared down the stairs to Tony’s workshop, Steve slumped backwards, sighing.

What a fucking mess.

*~*~*

Phil sighed as he finally left Tony’s lab, hoping Clint had gotten in touch with everyone. He was running a little later than he had planned - but then, he hadn’t counted on things being quite so strained between Steve and Tony. He’d done his best to smooth over some of Tony’s obvious hurt by going over the schedule with him - Tony had mentioned something about moving some simple weights onto the Soldier’s floor, and instructions for if nightmares came up - and arranging a day and time for Tony to be introduced as the repairman.

He’d chuckled something about a mechanic, but hadn’t elaborated. Phil had had to leave him there, still tense and pretending to be busy with work, but hopefully… well. Phil just hoped Tony knew he’d be included, that he was important to this all working.

For now, he needed to focus on the others.

Thor, Jane, Bruce, and Pepper were gathered, thankfully, with Clint almost slouched in his wheelchair and ignoring the questioning looks thrown his way. When Phil walked in they all stopped talking and stared. Clint glanced at him and raised a brow.

Phil sent him a look, which had Clint grimacing.

Focusing on the other four, he straightened and said, “We need to update you all on the situation here. It is very important you listen closely, and that you follow the instructions given to you for the duration of this… incident.”

All four straightened at the announcement, though Bruce seemed to also try and make himself invisible slightly. He wondered if it was in response to the obvious ‘this is bad news’ tone Phil had before he put it to the back of his mind.

Now was not the time.

“We were able to retrieve Bucky successfully, but there has been a complication. It seems that Bucky has fully relapsed into the Winter Soldier,” he informed them.

Pepper immediately frowned with Thor while Bruce glanced to the doorway and Jane’s nose scrunched up slightly. “What does that mean?” she asked and Phil gave a small nod.

“The Winter Soldier has no will, no agency, and will follow any order given by those he views as in command. Over the next few weeks, I will be introducing each of you to the Soldier in a capacity that is relatable to your real job, and so he can understand the hierarchy already laid down, partially, by Agent Romanov,” Phil answered and Jane nodded, leaning back slightly, while Bruce looked back over at him.

“How do we introduce the Hulk?” Bruce asked and Phil stared at him before he looked back down at his file folder.

“...Let’s worry about that later. In the meantime, we’ll work on getting in times, and explain how Bucky will need to be handled,” Phil stated and sighed a bit.

“He needs simple, concise orders. If he ever hesitates, wait patiently for a few minutes, then repeat the order. We’ll be handing out Lewis Specials later in case he goes rogue and attacks you, omitting you, Thor, and you, Dr. Banner. For now, he seems to obey orders without question, but if presented with two people, and one is of ‘higher’ rank, he may hesitate for confirmation, so be aware and see if that is why. We’re not sure if that’s what will happen, so we’re covering all of our bases here,” Phil stated.

Pepper frowned more. “Wait, so we have to treat him like he’s… an object?” Pepper asked in a sharp voice.

“Similarly, in a way. It is close to how we treat the victims of Lorelei, though in that case we must rely on the women as they do not react to a male voice,” Thor answered and frowned, his eyes turning inward briefly as Jane reached out to place a gentle hand on his arm.

He shook his head and focused on Pepper. “It will be difficult, but it sounds like HYDRA has done to the Soldier what Lorelei does to all men with her voice. It will be hard, but giving Bucky clear orders and not expecting him to make choices would be for the best. There are some who are still susceptible to later mind altering techniques if they were victims of Lorelei and some still must have orders spoken to them at times of distress,” he continued with a slight shrug that almost made the navy blue dress shirt he was wearing rip at the shoulders.

Jane flushed slightly and cleared her throat. “So long as I am in the lab, that won’t be a problem for me. I give orders I expect to be answered at all times anyway, but outside I may have trouble,” Jane stated as she focused on Phil.

“Just try. I don’t expect anyone to get this right off. I’ll e-mail you with your positions in the ‘hierarchy’ once I have Darcy put it together for me. She’s already started, but says she needs some more information. That’ll be finished before we get to introducing everyone. Any questions?” Phil questioned, glancing around the room at them.

Of them all, Thor looked the most like he was steeling himself to face an old nightmare. “When will he be interacting with us on a daily basis?” Pepper asked.

“We can’t be sure,” Clint interrupted and they turned to face him while Phil resisted the urge to glare.

“It might not be till he’s ordered or until he gets curious. That’ll be good, the curiosity, but most likely when he’s given an order to come to a common area,” Clint continued and Pepper nodded.

“That’s something at least,” Pepper answered and Bruce looked at her and she sighed.

“I’m looking at this from a PR standpoint; the knowledge that one of our own has… become without agency would reflect badly on the Avengers as a whole. There would be a loss of support, wonder if others could be taken in such a way, if we brainwashed him, various other things. The public can _not_ know about this, and so long as he stays to his floor, it’ll be easier to contain. It’ll be even better if he just… never goes on missions. I can come up with various excuses, but like we kept the fact Clint was one of those Loki took with his scepter, and various other things to keep the Avengers clean, we’ll hide the fact Bucky has returned as the Winter Soldier,” Pepper stated and she sighed. “I’ll come up with something to cover Bucky’s silence, or even his absence, but give me a heads up before he gets to the field. I need to know the story to spin,” she stated and Phil gave a nod.

“I’ll be sure to give you ample warning if we send him out, if we can.”

“That’s all I ask.”

Phil wrapped things up relatively quickly - arranging possible days and times that would work for everyone to be introduced - and wasn’t too surprised when Pepper lingered. She watched the others head out the door, Jane holding Thor’s hand, Bruce frowning to himself. When they were gone, she glanced back at Phil.

“How’s he taking it?” she asked worriedly. “He’s not finding some way to blame himself is he?”

Phil shook his head. “No. Not that I’m aware of. He… he wants to help, and is struggling with the fact that there’s not too much any of us can do,” he offered.

Pepper sighed. “Yeah. I’ll try…” She paused, pursed her lips a bit. “He’s either going to fall behind on projects, or obsess over them, but I’ll try to keep an eye on his workload. If it gets worrying, please check on him for me? I have to go to our offices in California later this month for a while, and the longer this goes on the harder it’s going to be. For everyone.”

“Of course.”

With a thankful smile at the two of them, Pepper finally left.

Clint looked at him and sighed. “You want to tell me what, exactly, happened? Cause from what I heard from Nat, it wasn’t all sunshine and roses down there before, but you seem particularly frustrated for it to be their usual bullshit.”

Phil sighed and scrubbed his head.

“Hey, don’t do that. Your hair is a diminishing resource,” Clint teased gently and Phil grunted in annoyance that, even as Clint wheeled over to lace their fingers together, holding his hands.

“Steve told Tony not to get involved. Specifically, he told Tony there was _nothing_ he could do and gave the fact Bucky was dangerous as the reason, but all Tony probably heard was the ‘nothing’ and so he is probably going to start spiraling downward and there is _no one_ who can keep him from doing that, or at least slow it down. Darcy is exhausted and trying to manage with a new baby, and Bucky is no longer in the building,” Phil explained in the voice they had long learned was best for Clint to hear, looking down at him and wondering if he should be signing, but Clint seemed to get it all.

“Steve is such a moron when it comes to day to day catastrophes,” Clint stated.

Phil nodded in agreement and sighed, looking at the wall. Clint squeezed his hands twice in quick succession, a silent ‘I love you,’ that meant the world to Phil and he looked back at Clint. “I am also worried about the fact the first time Bucky is going to meet Marie, he’s going to be the Winter Soldier,” Phil added.

“So Darcy gets introduced after me, and Nat and I are present when they are introduced,” Clint stated and Phil snorted.

“You are the last possible person I am going to introduce to the Soldier,” Phil stated and at Clint’s confused sound, carefully extracted his hands to sign the sentence to Clint, who laughed.

“It should be Darce and Marie,” Clint stated.

Phil sighed and shrugged a bit. “It isn’t that I am worried about,” he added quietly, signing as he spoke.

Clint focused at that.

“If Bucky comes back, he’s going to realize the first time he saw Marie was as the Soldier, the asset, the one without a will or agency,” Phil stated.

“If he remembers. He might not remember what happened while he was relapsed,” Clint responded and Phil shrugged, even as he bent over and pressed his forehead to Clint’s shoulder.

Clint made a comforting sound and wrapped his not broken arm around Phil, rubbing his hand in circles against Phil’s back, murmuring comfort against Phil’s temple as he did so.

Phil just sunk into his embrace willingly, Clint easily taking his weight and the burden Phil carried.

Phil still didn’t know how his archer did it, but he appreciated it every day he sunk into Clint’s gentle arms.


	7. Chapter 7

No one bothered the Soldier for a few days, except for the voice in the ceiling prompting him to eat or sleep or change clothes and place the old ones into a laundry chute.

It was odd to not be doing something most of the time. The Soldier almost asked the voice for any tasks that he should do, but never did dare to speak out of turn. He sat in the defensible corner he’d found, cleaning his weapons, or he worked out, because he’d been told to stay functional, and missions had been mentioned. To be functional for missions meant he needed to stay in top form, and so he spent as many hours as he could keeping that way, usually until the voice in the ceiling told him to stop.

The quiet pressed in, and the Soldier had nothing to do but wait for further orders.

When they came, it was from the voice in the ceiling.

“If you would please, Master James,” the Voice said, polite but firm. “Move from the doors and stand with your hands in sight.”

Doing as told (the Voice always referred to him as Master James, he’d realized, not any of the usual ‘asset’ or ‘soldier’), the Soldier rose and move to the middle of the room, his hands at his sides. (He could get to the knife in less than a moment. The gun wasn’t too far, just some steps away.)

Into the room stepped a nondescript man of undetermined middle-age. He was calm, took in the Soldier with a look that was sharp and intelligent, and stopped a few yards from the door, leaving a good portion of space between the Soldier and himself.

Not out of fear, though, because that wasn’t there, not in any fashion the Soldier was used to seeing on anyone. Even superiors tended to harbor a fear of him, but this… this man was assured.

It set his heart racing unusually, and he resisted the urge to put more distance between them.

“I’m Director Coulson,” the man said. “As Widow informed you five days ago, I have brought with me a schedule for your daily activities.” Though the Director held a paper folder in his hand, on the nearest surface a screen appeared, startling the Soldier though he took care not to show it.

Broken down into half-hour segments, each day of a week was listed, each segment filled with instructions of what he was to do.

“The only time you do not follow this schedule is if you encounter a complication, during which you will contact JARVIS for further instructions, or if you are sent on a mission on my orders. Am I understood?”

Nodding, the Soldier spared another glance at the schedule. One segment was highlighted - the current time. It said introduction to personnel.

“Over the course of the next few days, you will be introduced to those you need to know while here. After you have been introduced to the teams and other important personnel, this time will be filled with another activity.

“We are part of a privately owned Resource and Information Center. There are four units - two for missions, then two for Research and Public Relations respectively. The secondary unit is headed by my Second in Command; you will be meeting the Commander shortly. The Captain is in charge of the Operations Unit. Most likely, you will minimally interact with the other units, so your primary concern should be them. Understood?”

“Yes,” the Soldier said, filing away these details carefully. He did not want to know what would happen if he were to forget them.

“Good,” the Director said, giving a slight nod. “Have you encountered any difficulties or problems since Widow was last here?”

The Soldier was pretty sure the Voice would have reported any such things it… witnessed, so either this was a test or… or the Voice hadn’t?

He didn’t want to say it, but this was the Director - he was to follow orders.

“I experience difficulty sleeping,” he reported. For a moment, he hesitated before deciding not to elaborate unless asked.

Of course details were required though.

“Explain.” The Director had a calm, steady gaze that made the Soldier uncomfortable.

“My sleep is frequently interrupted by vivid images. I cannot recall them upon waking,” he added, anticipating that would be the next question.

The Director nodded, like this was a problem in functionality he had expected - perhaps he had. Perhaps the Voice had told him.

(Perhaps the Voice hadn’t. Which… meant what? The Voice reported to someone else? Had that person in command not reported to the Director? Was there dissension within the hierarchy?)

“It was an expected complication, as we don’t believe in using a mind wipe. As such, the vivid images are most likely from your brain repairing itself from the damage caused by your previous… _handlers_ ,” the Director explained, and the distaste in which he used ‘handlers’ said how little he thought of them.

He was used to hearing that, usually from Pierce when talking about someone who had failed in some way.

“The mind wiping was extremely inefficient and could have caused you irreparable harm. It was sloppy,” the Director continued, and it was very obvious that the Director probably wanted his old handlers very much dead.

Buried was optional.

“Director, the Commander is on her way up,” JARVIS greeted and the Director glanced at the schedule.

“Does she have a package?” the Director asked, his shoulders tensing.

“The Widow has taken charge of the package for the duration of the meeting,” JARVIS informed and the Director’s shoulders relaxed.

“It seems your first meeting is right on time,” the Director stated, even as he stepped to the side as the elevator dinged and it opened to reveal a young woman, dressed in a skirt suit in black box heels, the coat, and subsequently the blouse, slightly too tight in the bust area.

Her hair was pulled back out of her face, though easy to grab, but there was a slight bulge at the wrist that suggested a knife, either to use on whoever grabbed her hair or on the hair itself. “Director,” she greeted and glanced over at him, assessing, and then….

He felt his brain short-circuit when she gave a genuine, friendly, if not really warm, smile and then glanced at the Director.

“Soldier, this is the Commander, my second-in-command. The Widow answers to her. She is mostly in charge of the Research and Division team, but takes over when I am otherwise indisposed,” the Director stated as he watched him, but the Soldier was watching _her_.

The Director was one to respect, yes. There was just too much of a ‘don’t look at me, I’m just a simple man in a poorly fitted suit’ for him to trust.

But the Commander….

The Commander made no secret of the fact you should listen to her. One hand, the one without the knife strapped to the inside of the arm, rested on her hip, accenting the slight bulge that could be a type of defensive weapon could be seen, while the other hand, her right hand, hung relaxed and calm, fingers curled idly against the palm.

Too calm.

She knew he was dangerous, respected it, and made sure he knew she could take him out if he turned on her. She wasn’t trying to hide how good she was or hiding behind an innocent face who pretended not to know how to fight.

He respected someone who didn’t bother to hide, from him anyway. He was sure most of her posture would have gone unnoticed, if someone wasn’t looking and he gave a small nod.

The smile was warmer this time, but understanding. “I hate to cut it short, Director, but I am needed on the floors below,” she stated, and the Director nodded.

“Of course Commander,” the Director responded.

She nodded to the Director and then to him again, and she was back on the elevator, the doors hissing closed rapidly behind her.

“I won’t often be indisposed,” the Director commented.

_Pity_ , the Soldier thought, but kept it to himself.

He was pretty sure he would have preferred the Commander, all things considered.

*~*~*

The next day, the Voice in the ceiling gave the same order to stand back with his hands clearly visible, and the Soldier waited to see who he would be meeting this time. The Captain walked in, looking at the Soldier with an almost desperate concern before it was quickly slid away behind a calm mask.

“The Director thought it would be good for us to be introduced again,” he said, and the Soldier made note of the discomfort in the sentence, the way it didn’t fall out naturally.

“I lead the Operations team. When the Director says to, we go out on missions. Main focus is containing and taking custody of criminals, and keeping civilian casualties to a minimum.” He paused, like he was waiting, so the Soldier nodded once. Sighing, the Captain ran a hand through his hair.

Odd, to give away nervousness like that.

“In a few minutes my second is going to join us. Falcon is - air support.” Small stumble over the words. The Soldier blinked and waited.

The elevator dinged softly, and out stepped a tall man, dark eyes focused and calm in a way the Captain’s weren’t. He watched the Soldier carefully, waiting for a wrong move.

“S-Falcon’s commands are as good as my own,” the Captain said.

Falcon glanced at the Captain, then back at the Soldier. “If you’re sent out with us, it’ll most likely just be as back-up, or long-range cover. We want you to stay out of sight if you’re with us, understand?”

“Yes,” the Soldier said.

In the quiet that followed, a strange tension grew, setting the Soldier on edge, making him itch for a weapon or for orders or… something.

Face twisting, the Captain turned and left. Falcon sighed, gave the Soldier a nod, and followed after him.

Before the elevator doors closed, the Soldier saw Falcon put a hand on the Captain’s shoulder.

The Soldier’s head tilted to the side slightly and he decided he would report it to the next one he saw that was in charge. He was unsure of the rules involving superiors and subordinates, but the Director… the Commander would need to know. He wondered how he could get her up here, to report to her, instead of the Director, before he frowned and shook his head slightly.

Why did he want to keep the Commander close? He felt like it was an order from an old mission, before a wipe, that was trying to wiggle through.

Something… important, about the Commander.

He shook his head, violently this time, and focused on the next portion of his day, never mind that the Captain had left early.

And if that niggling feeling stayed, as if he needed to… follow the Commander, back to another point, well….

He ignored it.

Pointedly.

*~*~*

The Soldier was not sure what to think of the head and second-in-command of ‘PR’, who worked under the Commander. They were in charge of relations and making sure that no one had a reason, whether real or imagined, to interfere with the Agency.

Usually, if people opposed his old handlers, the Soldier was sent to remove them from the picture, but this… Agency seemed to want to avoid that unless they had no choice.

Ms. Potts (she had no other title and seemed to dislike the idea of having another one) was sharp, intellectually intelligent, and could probably spend a great deal of time making people disappear, or reappear, on paper within a heartbeat.

His old handlers would have _killed_ for her, and it is likely that they did, but here she sat in the Agency and not with them.

Thor, again one with no title just a name, made the hair on his arm and on the back of his neck stand up. He knew this man, who seemed at times like an overly rambunctious, if well trained, puppy, was anything but.

He was dangerous and should be watched carefully. He did not think either would react well to his report on the Captain and Falcon. And his question on their… familiarity. He knew the last time he reported such to a handler, he had ended up… violently wiped, if his vivid dreams were to be believed.

“Do you require assistance?” Ms. Potts asked and the Soldier shook his head.

He needed the Commander.

~*~*~

There was a surprising and odd note of tension in the Voice the next day when it told him, “Your last meetings of important personnel are today, Master James.” After a pause, he was told much more quietly, “If at all possible, take as much care as you can.”

He was not sure if that meant there was someone very dangerous coming, or the opposite, and he didn’t have long to think it over before the elevator was opening and three people were stepping out.

A woman, somewhat nervous and also curious, intelligent eyes; a man who shifted constantly to make himself smaller, less noticeable; a second man, smirk on his face and deep circles under sharp eyes.

“This is the Research Unit,” the Voice reported dutifully. “Dr. Foster specializes in astrophysics and is second-in-command as well as pseudo-head.”

The woman stepped forward, hand reaching forward before she pulled it back, looking embarrassed. “Ah. Hi.”

He nodded.

“Dr. Banner specializes in biochemistry, gamma radiation, and nuclear physics and usually is the one to deal with any injuries acquired by our teams. He is considered second-in-command as well.”

The nervous man looked up, nodded, and looked back down, shoulders hunching.

Something about him… was off, and the Soldier couldn’t place what it was. Much like Thor, though, it set his hair standing on end.

The Voice’s tone changed, just barely, and the Soldier snapped to attention to the last person.

“Dr. Tony Stark is the head of this unit, specializing mainly in engineering. He is in charge of outfitting the teams with gear to withstand heavy use and unusual situations, and-”

The man waved his hand, frowning, and the Voice stopped. He looked at the Soldier, eyes assessing, giving the Soldier a complete examination before saying, “If your arm gives you any trouble, you come to me. I mean any - even the smallest hitch, I want you alerting JARVIS and coming to me. Got it?”

The Soldier nodded, the “Yes,” coming out softer than intended.

It made the man - Dr. Tony Stark - flinch, then rub his hands together. “Right well. Not sure what else they fucking thought we’d be doing here beyond a simple meet and greet, so-”

“Sir,” the Voice tried to say, but Dr. Tony Stark (that felt wrong; didn’t fit right, for some reason) was already at the elevator, and after a moment’s hesitation and an exchanged glance, the other two scientists followed him.

The Soldier resisted the urge, masterfully, to follow after the Engineer (no, that didn’t work either), to grab him and drag him back to the kitchen… why the kitchen?

Or was it the bedroom?

The Soldier frowned at this, feeling his forehead furrow and he glanced at the ceiling, briefly wondering if he could get his arm to malfunction so that he could go to the Mechanic (he nearly snarled at the fact that _that_ didn’t work either), and instead focused on trying to word his request. “I have an inquiry,” he stated, startled that the words had come out.

“Yes?” the Voice answered.

The Soldier, however, was silent.

He had no idea what he was going to ask.

“The Director is… indisposed at the moment. Is it vital?” the Voice responded.

The Soldier nodded.

“In a moment,” the Voice stated and there was an odd stillness, as if a presence had left the room.

Odd.

He had a feeling that he was… alone.

Unwatched.

It was tempting to hide and see if it were true, but then the Voice was there, once again, and with a sentence that the Soldier would never admit to being thankful for hearing. “The Commander is on her way,” the Voice stated and the Soldier nodded.

It took several long minutes for the elevator to open again, but when she stepped through the Soldier found himself relaxing, relieved. She looked around for a moment before looking at him, a concerned furrow between her brows.

“JARVIS said you had something important to ask?”

He nodded. She looked at him, obviously waiting, and… still he couldn’t think of just what to ask. He’d intended to ask about the Captain and Falcon, about relationships between a superior and subordinate, but….

He frowned, frustrated.

“Is it a question on structure?” the Commander asked, and the Soldier nodded sharply.

She paused and took a breath, wincing slightly. He glanced over, doing a quick assessment and noted that the pain seemed to be centralized around her chest.

He did not ask, nor suggest she go see someone. Something (that odd niggling voice) said that doing so would be a poor choice. “Is it about the people or the command?” she questioned and the Soldier stared.

“People,” he answered.

“What about the people?” she questioned and he struggled to word the question.

“Is it about a superior-subordinate pair?” she asked and the Soldier nodded.

“The Captain and Falcon?” she inquired after a moment of thought and he nodded again.

She considered. “They are close, but not involved, and if they were, it would not be against policy. We have protection for the subordinates so none of the superiors can abuse their power and force a subordinate to be with them. We were quite careful on that front,” she answered and he didn’t feel….

He should have been satisfied, but it felt like that wasn’t what….

“Is there something else?” she asked and he nodded.

“Can you think of it?” she asked and he shook his head sharply.

No, he couldn’t and it was infuriating him. A part of him was uneasy as well - he did not know what would prompt punishment from this Agency, if his inability to report or his wasting of the Commander’s time would result in it. The Commander seemed tolerant, though. She seemed… patient with his struggle for words.

“One person or a team?” she asked.

“One,” he answered and she considered again.

“Dr. Tony Stark?” she asked and he nodded.

“What about Dr. Stark?”

The Soldier struggled. He wanted to ask what the name was, what he should call Dr. Stark, but paused and asked, “Is he… functioning?”

It wasn’t right, but the question must have been right because she smiled, before it fell away and she looked away. It was obvious she was figuring out how to word the answer. “He can do his job. He can do his job black-out drunk, high on painkillers, and with four broken fingers. But otherwise? No, not entirely, but not to… a level in which we have to worry. Yet,” she answered, and it was honest.

It upset him.

He frowned and the Commander let out a soft sigh. “It is not a pleasant situation, but he was, and is, in a relationship with an officer of his rank and… as of right now, things are severely strained,” she explained further and the Soldier felt himself flex fully.

He would… watch. It would seem he would need to overheat a part of his arm. He had done it before, and he doubted it was fixed, so he could do it. And with the Mechanic (not right, not wrong, what was it?) he could observe.

“Is everything clear?” she asked and he nodded.

_Crystal_.

He frowned slightly and nodded again at her questioning of his call-sign.

“Very well. JARVIS, the elevator please,” she stated and the doors opened and….

The Commander was gone with only a reminder to keep an eye on the schedule.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So just to sum it up - Coulson is "Director" with Darcy as his Second in Command and head of the Secondary Unit, which Natasha is part of. Pepper and Thor are PR. Steve is in charge of the Operations Unit, with Sam as his second. Tony, Jane, and Bruce are part of the Research Unit. Clint, though not listed here, the Director's Asset, basically.


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for it being a bit late.
> 
> We got a bit distracted.
> 
> (On the bright side, it is only late by 53 minutes or so.

“-was completely reckless-” Steve yelled, right on Tony’s heels as they entered the workshop.

“-saved them, it’s not even-”

“-I have enough to worry about without-”

“-had everything-”

“If I may interrupt,” JARVIS said, loudly enough to be heard over the shouting. “I have directed Master James to the workshop, as his arm has malfunctioned. He is currently in the elevator and will arrive in twenty seconds.”

Tony and Steve stared at each other, and then Steve blew out a breath. His hands dropped off his hips. Tony took a step back out of his space and rolled his shoulders.

“I’ll let Coulson know why you’re not in debriefing,” Steve said quietly. Tony nodded. Nodding back, Steve turned and left, disappearing up the stairs just as the elevator doors opened.

In some ways, it wasn’t hard, to keep Bucky separated from the Winter Soldier. There was a blank countenance to him that, even when Bucky was the closest to the programming, didn’t exist. He stood in the elevator and Tony waved. “Come along, Soldier,” he called and swallowed harshly as he remembered teasing both Steve and Bucky like that.

_Come along, soldiers, won’t you keep a civilian warm?_

He’d never be able to do it again. He probably would have to call them by their ranks… if there was anything left to salvage. Tony looked for the chair proven by Bucky to not cause too severe of flashbacks and he waved to it. “Sit,” he ordered and the Soldier obeyed, hesitant before he slowly relaxed into the chair, the brace for his arm obviously different from the past.

“All right, care to inform me what’s going on with your arm here?” Tony asked as he bent over it, trying to find the catch, without upsetting the Soldier, that would allow it to open, as well as deaden the nerve endings.

The Soldier didn’t answer, just watched him as he worked, which… wasn’t the most comforting thing, considering that this was the Soldier, not Bucky.

God, he missed Bucky.

It had taken Tony a sadly long time to figure out that flipping that catch caused Bucky a great deal of pain before Tony had learned how to rewire it so flipping the catch would also turn off sensation. “And don’t panic if you suddenly feel like the metal arm is missing. The arm got upgraded a bit while you were out so you don’t have pain when the arm gets opened,” Tony added and he flipped the catch, flinching back when heat his face along with a… burning smell?

It was faint, but…. “Fuck, Soldier, what the hell happened?” he demanded.

Tony didn’t wait for an answer, stretching out to grab a couple tools, muttering to himself. “J, pull up the schematics, yeah, and take a quick scan now, I want to see what’s going on in there.”

The Soldier watched.

“How the hell did you do that?” Tony muttered, glancing at the new scan JARVIS had taken and back to the arm. “Gonna have to replace that. Please do not freak out on me….” Carefully, he removed the overheated circuit - and a couple of the ones around it that looked like they might be quick to follow. Thankfully, he did not get tossed across the room, so he counted that a win. It was quiet though, so quiet it set his teeth on edge. It wasn’t that he’d expected the Soldier to talk, but… still.

Tony glanced up quickly, to check, and found the Soldier… still staring, intently.

He paused. “Uh…” How to phrase it, how to…. “Status?”

The Soldier tipped his head to the side, and Tony scrambled for some way to make it clear, to make sure…

“Is this causing some,” he lifted a hand and waved it. “Mental dissonance or, tension or… anything like that? Or are you calm?”

“Calm,” the Soldier said after a moment. Tony waited, not sure if he’d really asked that right but… he seemed pretty calm.

Tony looked back down, went back to work. Best to not draw it out, in case that changed. God he hated this quiet.

The Soldier watched quietly the entire time. He didn’t move and the only sign he was alive was the fact his chest was rising and falling. Tony resisted the urge to pat his shoulder before he focused entirely on his work, carefully replacing it all, frowning when sparks flew up from his repair work. “What the hell?” he muttered and began to focus on replacing the whole section.

Wires were removed and replaced, chips were quickly copied and replaced with something better. Decades of work was removed, replaced, and rebuilt, Tony working tirelessly on the arm, trying to fix the damage done by… something. It was extensive and some of it was _old_ , as if something hadn’t been repaired, only replaced. He continued to work on it, ignoring how the time seemed to slip away.

“Sir?” JARVIS questioned and Tony hummed to show that he was listening.

“The Soldier needs to eat,” JARVIS stated.

“I need to fix his arm. Can Hawkeye bring some food down?” Tony argued.

There was a silent war and the Soldier shifted slightly at the name Hawkeye. He glanced up at the Soldier’s face, but it was still a mask of calmness, and he focused back down. There was the soft sound of the elevator moving away then, heard easily in the quiet, and Tony bent back over the arm.

“This is a mess,” he grumbled softly as he continued to clean it out and replace it.

Right until he hit where the source of the problem was coming from. “Soldier, you still calm?” Tony asked as he looked back up at the Soldier.

“Yes,” the Soldier said.

“Okay.” Tony blew out a breath and sat back a bit. His back cracked painfully and he grimaced. Stretching out his fingers, which were starting to feel stiff, he explained, “I can fix it. Like, fix it so it doesn’t do this anymore.” He gestured at the arm. “But… it’s going to take a couple days, and it’s gonna be next to useless during that time. It’s more than faulty wiring, it’s -” He paused, trying to think of how to explain. “There’s a whole part of the arm, it’s faulty, no good. It’s gonna keep letting you overheat and it’s going to continue letting that happen. I can fix it, but it’s like… a total rehaul,” he said. “Does that make sense?”

The Soldier tilted his head. “Yes,” he said after several moments, obviously giving it thought. Reassured, Tony nodded.

“Right, so it’d be like redoing a whole part of the arm, and like I said while I do that - and I can do it in a few days, probably two if I….” He waved vaguely. “Anyway, it’s going to be useless while I do that. Would you like me to fully fix it, or just patch it for now?”

The Soldier stared at him before he glanced at the arm. “Fix,” he stated and then focused on the far wall, just as JARVIS alerted him to Hawkeye’s appearance.

“Tony, you better not….” Clint called, only to stop short upon seeing the fact the Soldier was sitting in Bucky’s chair, with Tony bent over the arm.

“Soldier, I am Hawkeye, personal asset to the Director. Tony, I’m guessing this food is for the Soldier and _not_ you?” he questioned and Tony grumbled as he began to do the patch work.

“Yes, and Soldier, this means your schedule will have to be rearranged for intellectual pursuits, because this, this is going to remain in a ‘no-feel’ state and in a sling for the entirety of it takes to fix because it is this… whole portion of the arm. Hawk, can you put down the tray of food so Soldier can eat?” he responded, even as he focused on trying to see if he could ‘lock’ it or if he should just let it hang without it.

He frowned a bit and then shook his head, sticking a screwdriver into his mouth before he focused on the repairs and patching he would have to do, even as Clint began to scold him, more or less, without making it sound like scolding. “You can eat Soldier, even with him bent over your arm like that,” Clint stated and Tony made a confirming noise.

After a moment, in which Tony paused to look up with a raised brow, the Soldier reached out to the plate with his other hand and began eating.

Tony left it to hang - changing clothes would be easier, he imagined, but maybe he’d have JARVIS keep an eye on him, see if he thought the other way wouldn’t be better. Shifting the screwdriver in his mouth and grabbing it, he asked “J, where’d I leave that sling from when I dislocated my shoulder last month?”

“I believe you shoved it under the desk, Sir.”

“Right,” he muttered. He caught sight of Clint standing and watching him, and said, “You’re still here?”

Clint paused, like he was going to say something, but with a glance at the Soldier sighed and left. Tony watched him go, shook his head, and focused back on Bucky’s arm. “J, can you have the Commander extraordinaire switch up the Soldier’s schedule to accommodate this? Tell her plan for four days, but that I’ll probably get it done in two.”

“I will let her know, Sir.”

“Great,” Tony replied, “Soldier, I’m gonna get this to a point that it’ll stay pretty stable, though offline, until tomorrow. Show up, oh, let’s go with ten. Ten good J?”

“I will make sure you recall, Sir.”

“Smartass,” Tony muttered. He spent almost half an hour more messing with the arm, before he sat back and gestured tiredly to the door. “Go ahead and head back to your floor. Finish up whatever today’s schedule is, I’ll meet you here at ten tomorrow.”

The Soldier nodded and stood up, adjusting his sling as he did so, and crossed to the elevator. He stepped on once it opened and settled in, staring at Tony. He paused and then nodded. “Yes, Mechanic,” Soldier answered, causing Tony to start, especially when he saw the frown right before the doors closed on him.

~*~*~

Tony jogged upstairs, hands jittering a bit at his sides. Steve was on the couch, watching some… documentary or something probably on the TV.

He ducked into the kitchen, scowling at the sight of take-out left for him to pick through and make a plate. (A part of him _hurt_ with how much he missed Bucky right then, even though there was no specific reason to. He just… couldn’t help thinking of dinners together and…)

Steve was still leaning back on the couch, one arm stretched along the top.

Tony crossed his arms. “You want to go back to yelling at me now that we can’t be overheard?”

Steve sighed heavily. “Are you going to listen to anything I say, or just keep talking right over me?”

“You’re one to talk,” Tony muttered spitefully. “You don’t listen to _any_ of my-”

“Do we have to do this right now?” Steve moaned, dragging a hand over his head.

“I don’t know,” Tony said, tone mocking. “Are you going to stay pissed at me for whatever you think I did wrong this time?”

“Hey, I’m not the one picking a damned fight right now!” Steve snapped, glaring at Tony. He was on his feet, turned to face him, jaw clenched and bright spots high on his cheeks.

For a long moment, they just glared at each other. Finally, Tony scoffed, rolling his eyes and turning away.

“Whatever. I’m going to-”

“You’ve been in the workshop all day,” Steve started to say.

Tony turned to give him a blistering, slightly condescending look. “ _To bed_. I’m going _to bed_ Steve. Jesus fuck.”

Steve grit his teeth and Tony turned on his heel, headed straight for bed. He tossed his clothes in the corner, like he usually did and tugged on his thickest shirt so that the arc reactor’s light couldn’t peek through the weave and threw himself into bed. He curled up tight and tried to breathe through the thickness in his throat before he buried his face into the pillow and wondered why he always did what was worst for him.

He was still awake when Steve came into the bedroom.

He didn’t come to bed.

*~*~*

Steve stumbled slightly with a curse as he tripped over Tony’s clothes and he ran his hand over his hair. He hadn’t slept particularly well last night and while, yes, Tony’s habit of just throwing clothes in the vague direction of the hamper (usually) irritated him, today Steve felt like it was one thing too much.

He picked up Tony’s shirt from yesterday and stormed out of the bedroom. “Do you have to just toss your clothes onto the floor like you’ve never had to clean up after yourself ever?” Steve demanded as he came out of the living room and Tony let out a long sigh over his coffee mug.

“I didn’t toss my shirt onto the floor! I _thought_ I tossed it into a corner, out of the way, because I was _tired_ and I didn’t want to deal with opening the hamper, because _you_ insisted on getting a hamper _with a lid_ , and putting my clothes into there and possibly having you yell at me over the fact I mixed up which hamper, because we have more than one, for whatever reason,” Tony snapped.

“And what, you were just going to let them pile up in a corner instead?” Steve demanded.

“I was going to deal with it after _coffee_ ,” Tony snapped, his hands tightening on his coffee mug before he sipped it.

“How about you just put the clothes into the hamper?” Steve demanded.

“Which one? The one that is just for whites?” Tony demanded sarcastically.

Steve wondered if tossing the shirt at Tony would be wrong and instead let out a long sigh. “Just clean it up, Tony, and _try_ not to make a bigger mess of it,” Steve demanded and walked back into the bedroom, throwing Tony’s shirt into the darks hamper.

By the time he had left the bedroom again, dressed for a run, Tony was gone.

And his coffee mug was half-full on the counter.

Steve let out a long, strangled sigh, and, when Peggy didn’t come out for their daily run, went on it alone.

*~*~*

The Winter Soldier resisted the urge to frown as the Captain entered the room without knocking, only to stop short upon seeing him in the chair. Dr. Stark didn’t _seem_ to notice, focused as he was on the arm, but he also tensed slowly.

He knew the Captain was there then.

He wasn’t entirely happy the Captain was there and the Soldier glanced at the Captain, who was even tenser than he expected. He glanced over at the Mechanic, then back at the Captain, looking between them, especially as the Captain began to frown.

“I thought we agreed….” the Captain stated and Bucky eyed the Captain.

He twitched when he heard the screwdriver drop and glanced back over to find that the Engineer had dropped the screwdriver down. “ _We_ didn’t agree. You said, and, as it says, I don’t play well with others,” the Engineer spat out and the Soldier glanced at the Captain.

“Tony,” the Captain began.

“My lab, my rules, get out,” the Mechanic snapped and the Captain glared.

“This is….” the Captain began, even as the Mechanic snarled, “Out, Captain.”

The Soldier tensed, realizing that he was leaving. For a brief moment, he was in a quandary and then…

“Shit!” the Mechanic shouted as the Soldier moved, using his flesh arm to grab a tray and flung it forward, aiming at the knees of the retreating Captain.

He couldn’t leave, he was corrupting the mission!

The Soldier stilled, even as the Captain hit the ground, not expecting a low attack, and the Mechanic was there, trying to get him back in the chair. The Soldier let him.

“Shit, fuck, damn, Bu-... Soldier, Soldier, shit, that… this set it back a few days, fuck,” the Engineer said, even as the Captain slowly stood up.

The Captain stared in disbelief as the Mechanic bent over the Soldier’s arm, sticking his fingers in and hissing sharply, muttering curses as he dug in and pulled out the broken half of the small screwdriver he’d been using.

“Are you serious right now?” the Captain snapped.

“I bet you’re not even bruised,” Dr. Stark said back, voice almost a sneer. “ _He_ , however, has further busted up the arm and had a bit of screwdriver in there.”

“And after that you’re - Tony, you... “ He sucked in a breath, jaw clenched with anger. “JARVIS, call down the Director.”

“J, ignore-”

“He needs to know, don’t be-”

“I will alert the Commander to this argument,” the Voice warned sharply. Both of them went quiet, the Mechanic turning back to bend over the arm again. The Soldier watched, frowning when it obviously burned him and he didn’t stop digging around, trying to… fix something that had been damaged by his movements.

“JARVIS, Director Coulson please,” the Captain said tersely. The voice didn’t reply. “JARVIS.”

Making an exasperated noise, the Captain stared pointedly at the Mechanic. Again, a slow tension indicated that he knew, but was ignoring the Captain.

The Soldier glanced between them, frustrated (and curious, he couldn’t deny that he was curious, which probably wasn’t something he should let on he was feeling).

Sighing impatiently, the Engineer sat back, grumbling. “Jesus, fine, stop fucking looking at me like that. J, go ahead, call Director Coulson down here, or the Commander, or whoever is available and whatnot.”

“As you say, Sir.”

“The Commander is on her way,” the Voice stated.

“JARVIS!” the Captain snapped, but the Voice did not answer.

And, far too soon for it to be a recent call, the elevator was there and the Commander walked out. The Soldier resisted the urge to shove himself against the chair when she stepped into the room, box heels hitting the floor in a rhythmic pattern as she _marched_ into the lab. “Captain, I will deal with you later,” the Commander stated.

“Darcy,” he stated.

“I will deal with you _later_ ,” the Commander stated, glancing at him.

“The Winter Soldier attacked me,” he argued.

“I highly doubt it was an attack. You’re still standing in one piece. From his files, had he attacked you, you’d be on the floor bleeding and Tony would be dead, so I will say it only one more time before I call down the Widow. I. Will. Deal. With. You. _Later_ ,” the Commander reiterated and then looked at Tony and the Soldier.

He did push back against the chair at that.

The Captain, however, wasn’t leaving. “JARVIS, call Widow. Tell her I want the Captain removed from the lab. And make sure he’s banned until further notice, given only by Tony Stark. I don’t want a single code to work till that time,” the Commander stated and the Soldier noticed that the Mechanic actually relaxed at that.

“What if there is an emergency?” the Captain argued, but the Commander ignored him, seeming ready to wait him out.

“You can’t ignore me,” the Captain stated.

“JARVIS, Widow’s ETA?” she questioned.

“Five minutes. She’s just delivered the package to Dr. Banner,” JARVIS answered and Darcy nodded, pointedly still ignoring the Captain as she focused on the Soldier.

She gave him a small smile and the Soldier relaxed.

“Soldier, report,” she stated and the Soldier’s eyes flicked to the Captain before back to her.

“Can you talk in front of the Captain?” the Commander and the Soldier shook his head.

“Then we wait for Widow to collect him and take him to be on temporary floor arrest,” the Commander stated and carefully walked over, grabbed a stool and pulled it over, setting herself on it.

“Tony, the damage?” she asked, and the Engineer immediately began to rattle off what happened to the arm, and went into excessive detail about the damage done to the arm when the Winter Soldier had leapt from his seat.

He stared and barely kept from twitching when the elevator dinged and opened. “Darcy, if this is….” the Widow stated, only to still upon seeing the scene, which was the tray on the ground, the way the Captain was standing, and the Commander sitting calmly on a stool.

There was also the Mechanic, who had fallen silent in his explanation (which… included upgrading the arm, but he wasn’t sure about that since it had felt like babbling, words to fill the air), paused over his arm.

“Widow, please remove the Captain and keep him to his floor. I will speak with him later about this incident. Inform the Director for me please, preferably through Hawkeye. I will be up when the situation has been clarified,” the Commander stated and the Widow nodded and grabbed the Captain by the bicep.

“You put your boot in your mouth, didn’t you?” she growled as she dragged him out of the room and the lab door pointedly shut, and locked, behind them.

The Commander sighed and stood up, adjusting her outfit, wincing when she adjusted her suit jacket. “Soldier, report,” she ordered.

“The Captain was corrupting the Mission,” the Soldier reported and she nodded.

“How?”

“He was leaving. He… he can’t leave. The Captain can’t leave… not… he was corrupting the mission,” the Soldier struggled.

“What mission?” the Commander asked and the Soldier shook his head slightly.

“Well, no permanent damage was done. That is the sort of non-lethal work I want to see, so good work Soldier. Tony, I would like to see you after you finish working on the Soldier’s arm, for an update and review of how long I should rework the Soldier’s schedule for, is that all right?” the Commander responded with a smile and her face was softer as she looked at the Mechanic, who nodded.

“Good. Soldier, Tony,” she responded and she headed for the door, the lock disengaging and opening for her, along with the elevator doors as she did so, the door shutting, and locking, behind her as she stepped into the elevator.

*~*~*

Darcy had a blanket over her shoulder as she held Marie close to feed her, sitting in a chair long claimed as hers on Steve’s floor. “What do you have to say for yourself Steve?” Darcy asked with false sweetness only underlaid by the sounds of Marie eating.

Steve ground his teeth, blowing out a sharp breath through his nose. “We’d agreed - I don’t want - Bucky’s dangerous like this, and he’d never forgive himself if he hurt Tony. Jesus, just look what happened today! A throw like that would have left anyone who wasn’t a supersoldier on bedrest for days, and that was unprovoked, what if Tony does something to startle him?”

“ _We_ agreed?” Darcy questioned far too sweetly and innocently to be anything but a threat.

Steve completely ignored that, repeating, “Bucky is dangerous; I can’t chance him hurting Tony. It’d destroy both of them, Darcy.”

“You don’t get to make decisions for Tony about if he does or doesn’t see Bucky right now. You don’t get to take that choice away from him,” Darcy said.

“But-”

“No _buts_ Cap!” Darcy snapped and Marie made a sound.

She paused to gently calm Marie, making soothing sounds, and glanced under the blanket before shifting Marie slightly to the other side. She hummed and then looked back up at Steve. “Steve, if you continue down this path, you will be just as bad as Howard and Maria, who never let him have any choices, ever. He had to do things their way or not at all and they gave him standards he could never hope to achieve, and if you turn out to be that way? Not even the Winter Soldier will be able to save you,” Darcy stated and she carefully stood up, holding Marie out of sight.

She let out a sigh and stared down at him. “Captain Steve Rogers, you’re to remain _banned_ from the lab unless with someone around to monitor your and Tony’s interactions, since you can’t be trusted with him, until such time as I believe you _can_ be trusted,” she stated.

“You’re not actually my commander, Darcy,” Steve snapped. “You can’t _ban me_ from places in the Tower.”

“I, however, am authorized to remove anyone’s access to pertinent areas of the Tower,” JARVIS inserted. “As I believe you are a current danger to Sir’s health, you are restricted from the workshop unless accompanied by authorized personnel and given Sir’s permission.”

Darcy glanced at Steve with a smirk that seemed to say ‘See?’

“JARVIS-” Steve started, only for the AI to continue.

“Captain, if I could, I would restrict your access to Sir’s personal quarters, but seeing as they also belong to you, and Sir would find that overstepping my bounds, I won’t even attempt it.”

“Don’t annoy him further,” Darcy advised.

Steve swallowed and nodded, fists clenched at his sides. Darcy gave a nod and sighed, suddenly losing the air about her that she had been carrying since she came to speak with him. “Steve, I know you’re scared of losing those close to you, but if you keep trying to control every portion of Tony’s life, you’re going to lose him, more permanently than to death because death means you spent all that time before with him. You lose him like this, when he dies? You’ll have him only up to now,” Darcy stated.

Steve quite obviously bit his tongue back on an angry retort, a red blotchy flush creeping up his neck. He turned away from Darcy and she left him there, giving him space.

“None of them have any communication skills, I swear,” she sighed once she was in the elevator. “JARVIS? How’s Tones doing?”

“He is still working on Master James’ arm. He has ordered take-out from their favorite burger restaurant, which should arrive in twenty minutes, but I could not convince him to order something for himself. He claimed he ‘wasn’t that hungry’ and would eat at a later, unspecified time.”

“And the last time he ate?”

“He had a small serving of take-out last night.”

Darcy could feel a headache coming on. “Okay. Let me know as soon as Bucky leaves the workshop.”

“Of course, Darcy,” JARVIS answered and she sighed, cuddling Marie close as she rode the elevator to her floor.

“JARVIS?”

“Everything you need to take care of Marie is on your floor,” JARVIS reassured her and she let out a sigh of relief.

“Thank you JARVIS,” she responded.

“It was no trouble Darcy.”

~*~*~

“What is that?” Tony asked, eyeing the bags Darcy carried in with her to his workshop. It was later than he’d realized; hopefully JARVIS wouldn’t tattle about the last time he’d had a full night’s sleep.

He doubted he’d be sleeping tonight; the couch was comfortable, but not _that_ comfortable, and there was no way Tony was going to their- his- the bedroom tonight.

“Food,” she said, sitting across from him and pulling out take-out containers. “This is a very informal meeting, we eat and you explain to me how long Bucky’s arm will take now.”

“It’d almost be easier to just replace the whole damned thing at this point,” Tony muttered sourly. He sighed as Darcy pointedly pushed one of the containers closer to him.

The smell of food made his stomach twist sharply, and he was careful not to scarf it down as fast as he wanted to. It tasted really fucking good though, so maybe he could eat a little faster than normal.

“Would it?” she asked curiously.

Tony shrugged. “It’d only take… I don’t know, maybe a week more? Starting from scratch is in some ways easier, but then again I’d need to pull Bruce in, because how it’s hooked up to him….” He waved his fork. “Yeah. I won’t replace it, not gonna get into that, at least not - not like this. But it’s going to take probably twice as long as I thought.”

“So… eight days?”

“I can do it in-”

“You are not going to forgo sleep to work on that arm, Tony.”

“You are mom-ing me,” he accused, pointing a fork at her. “Bringing me dinner, setting bedtimes. I am not - you have a baby now,” he said, smiling a bit.

“I do,” Darcy agreed easily. “And the last time you came by to see her was _before_ we found Bucky.”

Tony frowned a bit and poked at his food. “I’m not good with babies,” he muttered.

“I’m not expecting you to be good with babies. I am expecting you to come and visit your niece. We’re on our floor,” she offered and Tony slowly looked up at her, though he frowned.

“You moved to your floor? I thought there was all… apartment,” he protested, even if he yawned around his food as he did so.

“Yeah, but with everything that’s gone around recently, I figured it would be better if we were close. And Natasha was getting twitchy, Tony. A twitchy Natasha makes for no sleeping. In the Tower, she’s stopped being twitchy, and thus sleep, more or less. More less than more,” Darcy answered and poked at him.

“Eat,” she ordered.

“Bossy,” he muttered, and dutifully took a bite. “Okay. So a week. Is that gonna be bad? Having his schedule… messed up so soon after getting it?”

Darcy chewed as she thought it over before slowly shaking her head. “I don’t believe so. He’ll still _have_ a schedule, which is a set structure for each day to follow.” She eyed him. “And you?”

“I can reschedule the meeting on Tuesday for-”

“That’s not what I meant Tony.”

“I’m ignoring what you meant.”

“Tony.”

He sighed, shoving the food away and dragging his hands through his hair. “Look, it’s not… not easy seeing him like this, but - but at least I’m able to _do something_ to help and that - that does. Make it a bit easier. Sort of.”

“Okay,” she said, quietly pushing the food forward again. He snorted, tugging it back in and picking at it for a while before actually taking another bite.

“What time is he coming in here tomorrow?”

“Ten,” Tony said. “Always ten, figured - you know, structure, make sure it’s the same time….”

Darcy smiled. “That’s good, Tones. How about you come by around eight then, you can see Marie. I’ll make breakfast - and coffee of course.”

Tony eyed her. “I can have coffee around you again?”

“If you’ll actually start visiting again, yes.”

A grin twitched across his face, there and gone. “Okay, deal.”

Darcy beamed and nodded a bit. “So, I shall see you at eight for breakfast and coffee, Marie will have already had her breakfast at that time, so I can, in fact, have a cup of coffee, no matter what Natasha says, and we can talk around the elephant in the room. And if you’re late, I’m gonna call Rhodey and have him drag you to mealtimes,” she responded cheerfully as she stood up with a happy bounce.

“I thought calling Rhodey was agreed to be cheating unless dire circumstances have arisen.” Still, he stood up, sinking into a hug, closing his eyes because it was a good hug, tight and reassuring and - “Are you developing these mom powers I was told about? Rhodey swears by them, but I always figured he was just making it up.”

Darcy laughed. “Tomorrow morning, Tones.”

“Yeah, yeah, eight am, JARVIS, make sure I’m awake and heading that way by 7:50.”

“Certainly, Sir.”

Darcy hugged him a little tighter and then reluctantly pulled away. “Cool. I’ll tell Nat you’re totally coming for breakfast so she doesn’t throw a knife at the elevator like she did at Clint yesterday when he dropped by unannounced, and it’ll be eggs with bacon and sausage and tomatoes and mushrooms and whatever else we can mix up with scrambled eggs and have it taste good, while Natasha smiles at us for being silly. It’ll be sickenly domestic,” she stated as she began to head for the door of the lab.

“Oh, and Marie is grabbing at stuff. Natasha was a bit surprised, but it seems to mostly be dangling stuff, so my hair most of the time,” she added as she entered the elevator, obviously waiting for him.

He paused, because there was so much to do - and he didn’t _want_ to go upstairs, didn’t want to go to his- their floor, because Steve might be there.

Steve might not be there.

Tony hadn’t decided which would be worse, really.

But one more glance at Darcy and he knew there was no way that elevator was going without him in it. He shut everything down with a wave of his hand, double-checked all the equipment was turned off and safely out of Dum-E’s reach, and stepped into the elevator with Darcy.

She waited as he got off on his floor, giving him a stern look and a soft, “Get some sleep tonight, Tones.”

Steve was there, eating heated up leftovers in the kitchen. They stared for a long moment before glancing away.

Neither of them said anything.

They changed and got ready for bed without a word, slid under the covers on absolute opposite sides - which put Tony in what was, in his mind, Bucky’s spot. He wasn’t sure if it was his imagination or not that the pillow still smelled like him.

It took forever to fall asleep, their backs to each other and the silence thick and heavy, the bed too-big and cold and empty without Bucky there.

He woke up only a half hour before he was supposed to meet Darcy, and that was only at JARVIS’ insistence.

Steve’s side of the bed was cold.


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, I made a post on Tumblr but just so everyone here knows, we're sorry for the day late chapter. Real life sometimes causes interruptions, and we wanted to triple check everything with this chapter.
> 
> But you know... it's extra long, so I think that'll make up for the wait. ;)

The Soldier figured out it was the Captain that was in a relationship with Dr. Stark (never calling him _that_ again) by the fifth day of arm repair, and that was only because he received the last piece of the puzzle when the Director entered the lab, followed closely by the Captain.

“Captain Rogers, you are not authorized to enter this space,” the Voice stated.

“Please explain,” the Director demanded and the Captain had looked… well, too calm.

It was a front, an obvious one, and the Mechanic made a muffled sound, followed by the clank of a screwdriver being dropped onto a metal tray. “The Soldier threw a tray at Cap’s legs when he tried to storm out of here five days ago, which severely damaged the Soldier’s arm, since he moved when I had a screwdriver in him. Also broke the screwdriver, but it was a crappy screwdriver so at least it didn’t snap off and fly into my eye, which would have been unpleasant to say the least,” the Mechanic reported.

“Since he’s been a model citizen, reporting exactly on time, eating his meals, and not attacking anyone, since I don’t consider the Tray Incident an attack. It went for the knees, it didn’t _break_ anything, and we’ve seen how destructive the Soldier can be. If it had been meant as an _attack_ , I’d be dead, Steve would be bloody, and the Soldier would be in a containment unit,” the Mechanic stated and the Soldier agreed with the assessment.

He had not attacked the Captain.

He had done the only thing he could think of to keep him from leaving.

Throw the tray, trip him, and yes, the Captain needed more force.

Were he to stop the Mechanic, it would have just been physically lifting him up, because the Mechanic seemed to dislike harming people. The Director probably would have also been stopped with the tray, but in a different manner, and he could mentally calculate how to stop the Commander (though he doubted that he’d ever do that, but it was there, a natural backup in case she corrupted the Mission. But she seemed aware of the Mission, if vaguely, and it was unlikely).

But it had not been an attack.

“Besides, the Soldier has not twitched since that incident while the in chair. I think he thought he needed to stop the Captain,” the Engineer continued and then the Soldier heard him picking up his screwdriver.

“That all AC to DC?” he questioned and the Director let out a low sigh and the Soldier noted a slight flinch from the Mechanic.

“That is all Tony. Captain, out,” the Director answered and the Captain shot a look at the Director, as if the man betrayed him.

“Director, you can’t possibly be allowing the Soldier to stay here _alone_ with Stark?” he questioned and the Mechanic flinched again, though the last name, _Stark_ , made a bell go off in the Soldier’s mind.

It made him angry and… fierce at once.

He didn’t like it.

“Tony seems to have things well in hand with the Soldier. I am sure that JARVIS will alert us if there are any problems. Out, Captain,” the Director stated and soon they were gone, the Captain tense and practically _storming_ out of the la-... workshop.

Workshop, not lab.

The Mechanic had a workshop.

“Fucking _Rogers_ ,” the Mechanic grumbled before he hissed in pain and the Soldier looked over at that, watching as he shook a hand with burned fingers.

“Status?” he asked, and the Mechanic looked up at him, brows raised and eyes a little wider than normal.

“Uhh… fine. Get them all the time, nothing to… report.” He frowned a bit, uncertain, and then ducked back down to the Soldier’s arm.

There was silence again, and the Soldier watched the Engineer work. Occasionally he muttered to himself, or to the Voice. Once, he looked over to the far end of the lab and snapped at some… metal, moving thing to ‘stop, just don’t, leave the parts alone and go clean up… the counter over there.’

The Soldier watched it wheel around.

“That’s Dum-E,” the Mechanic said quietly. “He’s a learning robot, but he’s not very good at it. He won’t hurt you, but he’ll probably try to touch the arm. Just say no and he’ll leave you be, okay?”

“Yes.”

He watched the… robot move around for a few more minutes, before focusing on the Mechanic again.

The Mechanic was strained, around the eyes, and tense in the shoulders. He was possibly tired, and the Soldier remembered how the Commander said he could, but it wasn’t ideal, more or less. She offered answers to questions before he asked them, was able to wait patiently for his report instead of hitting him to try and spark it. It took him a while to get words to form, and sometimes the words he used weren’t….

“Status?” he asked again, even though he knew that wasn’t what he was trying to ask.

The Mechanic looked up at him and gave a strained smile. It was fake and false, like he wasn’t sure how to react and then he was looking back down at the arm. “I’m fine, Soldier. Just… fine,” the Engineer answered.

_Fucked up, insecure, neurotic, emotional._

The Soldier would question the Commander later. He would bring up trouble with his schedule.

He mentally nodded himself, but kept a careful eye on the Mechanic for the rest of their time together, watching and wondering how he could complete the Mission when the Captain was corrupting it still.

The Mechanic hissed again, pulling one hand out and sucking on the ends of two fingers, glaring down at the arm.

Before he realized what he was doing, the Soldier reached out and grabbed the Mechanic’s wrist, tugging carefully until he could see the fingers.

Bright red, possibly would blister since he was pretty sure at least one of them the Mechanic had burned earlier. There was a scabbed over cut on the inside of his thumb, as well; it looked like something that had happened a day or two ago.

The Mechanic was staring at him, abruptly impassive.

Dropping his hold, the Soldier sat back, eyes on the ground. He waited, tensed and unsure for what - a punishment, perhaps, though that didn’t feel… right. However he had touched the Mechanic without permission. It was unlikely that that was allowed.

“JARVIS,” the Mechanic sighed. The Soldier watched him from the corner of his eyes. Leaning back in his chair, the Mechanic rubbed the back of a hand over his eyes, looking even more drawn and exhausted.

“Yes, Sir?”

“I have gloves, yeah? Safety ones for this kind of stuff?”

“Yes, though you insist they interfere with the delicacy of the work whenever Ms. Potts or the Captain ask you to use them.”

“Right. They do. Just… where are they?”

“In the cabinet by the bots’ charging stations, third drawer.”

The Engineer pushed up, groaning a bit under his breath and stretching until his back popped, then going over and digging around in the cabinet indicated. He returned, holding the gloves out to the Soldier.

“If I put these on, will you stop worrying?”

The Soldier took them cautiously, glancing at the Mechanic before examining the gloves, rubbing the material between his thumb and finger.

He handed them back and waited.

Sighing, the Mechanic put them on, grimacing and grumbling. He flexed his hands a few times before leaning over the Soldier’s arm again.

“J, make sure food is sent down here when the Soldier has to eat, okay?”

“Certainly Sir.”

*~*~*

Clint blinked in surprise when he brought down the Soldier’s meal to find that Tony was messing with the arm… wearing gloves. He opened his mouth to comment before he shut it and typed in his code. “Welcome Hawkeye,” JARVIS greeted.

“Hey Tony, Soldier,” Clint greeted as he walked in, setting the tray on the table in arm reach of the Soldier and plopped down on a stool, ignoring the way Tony twitched at that.

He pulled out a tennis ball and, with careful aim, bounced it past Dum-E, who immediately chirped happily and chased after it. “I’m awesome,” Clint stated.

“What have you done now?” Tony asked and Clint pressed a hand to his chest in mock pain.

“Me? Do something? Whatever makes you think that?” he asked.

“You’re sitting down here and the workshop creeps you out,” Tony answered and Clint ignored the way the Soldier stared at him in favor of catching the ball Dum-E had bounced back at him.

“It doesn’t creep me out. I just think booby-trapping the vents was overkill,” Clint argued.

Tony snorted (and the Soldier’s eyes narrowed, which Clint would never admit made him want to go find Phil or Natasha to hide behind). “I warned you to stay out of the vents.”

Clint shrugged, bouncing the ball back and forth with Dum-E a few more times. Tony worked quietly on the arm, and after a while the Soldier’s gaze drifted back to him, sometimes watching his hands, usually watching… well, Tony.

Clint wasn’t sure if he should be concerned. The Soldier’s face was impassive, but he hadn’t acted out at all, was concerned according to Darcy. Concerned about Tony, if he was ‘functioning.’

And, of course, Tony was wearing gloves which… Tony did not do, had never done so long as Clint had known him. Not even after one of Steve’s safety rants when they’d first lived together here, before they’d gotten together (and not after that, though Clint would bet Steve had still tried).

“So… gloves?” Clint asked.

“Shut it Barton. That fact does not leave this time or space,” Tony responded and Clint opened his mouth to tease, only to have the Soldier glance at him. Clint’s jaw clicked shut.

“Yeah, sure, not leaving this time or space, ever,” Clint agreed and Tony nodded while the Soldier went back to watching Tony work, his eyes occasionally glancing around, especially as Clint continued to play with Dum-E.

“Why are you here Clint?” Tony asked.

“Darce asked me to look in on you. She said she wanted to see you for an after-lunch lunch on her floor, if you wanted to, after you were done with the repairs on the Soldier’s arm. But only if you wanted to. She emphasized that a lot with me. Multiple times, and this is less checking on you and more bringing it to you and then I think she expected me to leave right after but I may or may not be engaged in a prank war with Natasha and this may or may not be the only safe place in the Tower,” Clint answered idly as he bounced the ball over for Dum-E to catch, Dum-E making a happy chirp as he chased after the ball.

“You are taking part in a prank war with Nat? Can’t decide if that’s brave or stupid as hell.”

“Eh.” Clint shrugged.

“Makes me feel like letting you stay down here is cheating,” Tony teased, frowning absently as he reconnected a few wires.

“Aw, come on Tony.”

“Yeah, yeah, Legolas. Tell Darcy I’ll think about it, have a few SI projects that could use some work, so.” He paused, then added, “Maybe breakfast again.”

“Okay,” Clint agreed easily, taking the ball from Dum-E and giving it an extra far toss. The bot whirred excitedly and raced off after it.

The Soldier shifted, making Tony glance up with a frown.

“Status?” he asked.

“Functional.”

“Alright,” Tony said, ducking back down close to the arm and starting to mutter so lowly that Clint had no chance of figuring out what he was saying.

The Soldier, however, was staring at him, far too intently to make Clint feel comfortable. It was like when Natasha was watching him when she was making training videos.

Clint had _hated_ Training Video Week at S.H.I.E.L.D.

He was so thankful those were gone now, but instead he was staring at the Soldier, who was very much giving him ‘get out _now_ ’ vibes and Clint clapped his hands together, mentally wincing when Tony flinched slightly. “Well, Natasha is going to figure out I am here soon, so I’ll be going. She might trick me out with pizza otherwise,” Clint stated, hopping off his stool.

“See you later Tony, Soldier,” Clint called and quickly retreated, hoping he could hit the vents before Natasha realized he was out of them.

*~*~*

Clint looked up from his bowl of cereal when Tony stumbled into the kitchen, looking tired as hell. Peggy followed at his heels, pressing against his legs when he stopped in front of the coffee machine and muttered for it to ‘brew’.

She licked Tony’s fingers, making Tony twitch a bit.

Clint frowned.

Tony’s coffee was just finishing brewing when Steve walked in. His jaw clenched as he caught sight of Tony, but he took a deep breath and finished stepping into the kitchen, heading over to the fridge.

“Morning,” he said as he pulled out the orange juice.

Tony grunted around a yawn, reaching up for a cup, hissing a breath and setting it down quickly. He shook his hand a bit before holding it in front of himself, twisting it and making unintelligible grumble noises.

“Ouch!” Clint said sympathetically at the bright red blisters on the tips of his fingers - worse on the middle one. “Is that why you had the gloves on?”

Both Steve and Tony stiffened, Tony slowly looking over his shoulder to glare viciously at Clint. Eyes going wide, Clint raised his hands. “Whoa, sor-” he started to say.

“What the hell did you do down there?” Steve asked, marching over and grabbing Tony’s hand by the wrist, bringing it up to look more closely at the blistered fingers.

Tony yanked his hand away. “Lay off, Steve.”

“Damn it, Tony, you’re always down there - are you overworking, _again?_ You make stupid mistakes when you-”

“I’m _busy_ ,” Tony said tightly. “They’re just little burns, they’ll be fine in a day or two.”

“Why weren’t you wearing gloves in the first place? I’m _always_ telling you to put them on, you never listen, this is why-”

“Oh my _god_ , Steve, you’re acting like I have killed the nerves in my fingers or something. They’re _blisters_. Kids get them all the time, hell, you can get them cooking and I don’t _wear_ the gloves because-”

“So you always say, but-”

“Just fucking lay off, okay? You’re-”

Clint’s fingers were tight on his spoon and bowl. He watched them argue, voices getting louder and angrier. His eyes didn’t even have to move much between them, because they’d stepped even closer, getting into each other’s faces, postures tensing aggressively.

“-always so damned reckless, Tony, don’t get pissed off because someone actually gives a fuck what happens to you for once-”

“Fuck you, Captain-”

“Uh… do you guys want some privacy?” Clint interrupted, loudly and a bit frantically, ready to take his cereal and flee the floor. They both froze, but didn’t look away from each other even slightly.

“No,” Steve said through his teeth. “I was on my way out, anyway.”

Tony didn’t stop glaring at his back as Steve shoved the orange juice back in the fridge - without ever having poured a glass - and stormed out.

Muttering curses and insults under his breath, Tony jerked around back to the coffee machine.

Clint realized Peggy was cowering under his chair, shaking and making soft whimpering noises. Tony left without her, and Clint shook his head.

“Shit,” he muttered.

*~*~*

Tony finished up the arm, and he figured - that was that, arm repaired, Soldier could return to his regular schedule. He let Darcy know, turned down another offer of having a ‘late lunch’ together, and….

There was nothing for him to do, now. Avengers business had been surprisingly slow. Tony wasn’t sure if that was just a coincidence, or if the other superhero teams had discreetly taken up the work so the Avengers could focus on… personal things. (If so, he’d have to thank them somehow, most probably Xavier, because so far as Tony knew no one had _told_ the others.)

He fiddled around the workshop a bit, glanced through his emails, did some work on the team’s gear.

Tried not to think about how normally this time of day he’d have Bucky - the Soldier down here, helping him even if it was just making the arm more comfortable. Now? Now what use was Tony to helping the Soldier, to helping Bucky get better, to helping the team when all of them were focused on doing that and Tony, Tony had little he could contribute.

Phil had mentioned, at one point, making practice dummies. Tony did some preliminary work on that, but it felt… well, a lot like being given something to do to pacify him.

He spent two days in the workshop before the quiet and solitude there became unbearable. Ignoring JARVIS’ hesitation and suggestion to consult Darcy, Tony lifted the ban on Steve’s access. Darcy didn’t have the right to dictate Tony’s personal life outside of work related issues, and now that the Soldier had no reason to be there, there was little reason for Steve to be kept out. It was a bit of a peace offering on Tony’s part, too. He’d been… well, some of their fights lately had definitely been on him.

Steve was, apparently, busy doing… something with the Soldier, to help. He didn’t elaborate, sounded distracted when Tony finally found and cornered him one morning to talk about it, the restriction being lifted.

Sighing, Tony sat on the living room couch for a few hours, absently petting Peggy, before retreating back to the workshop. There were SI projects he could work on, nothing important or immediate though, nothing that worked as a good distraction from how… how easily he was erased from the Soldier’s life.

From Bucky’s.

He tried to see if Bruce was up for a good distraction.

Bruce was studying brainwave patterns in an attempt to understand how they might better help Bucky.

Natasha was busy between Bucky and Marie, Clint and Coulson and Thor and Steve all busy with Bucky, doing… training sessions and - and meditation Tony thought on Thor’s part which was kind of odd but whatever. Thor had experience with this kind of thing apparently and claimed it helped. Even Sam was more fucking use with it all than Tony was.

Their bed felt empty even when Steve was there. Half the time, Tony was alone in it, and most of the rest, Steve was too drained, emotionally as well as physically, to do more than immediately pass out.

They hadn’t talked, really, about the fights. Tony wanted to curl up closer, and wasn’t sure he… should. It made him irritable and edgy, that uncertainty. He shouldn’t be feeling like that. He was fucking Tony Stark, he was confident he was… he was made of iron, damn it.

He was not some insecure idiot.

So maybe Tony was in a bit of a bad mood when Steve did finally show up in the workshop, tired looking but for once actually _focused_ on Tony, not just looking through him. Maybe Tony shouldn’t have sneered when Steve asked quietly if Tony wanted to order some take-out and watch a movie.

Maybe he’d pushed Steve’s buttons, because Steve seemed so calm and at ease with things and Tony _wasn’t_.

“What the hell is wrong with you?” Steve snapped after Tony had pushed, and pushed, and fucking _pushed_ him with needling jabs and arrogant looks and - everything he could think of to piss Steve off. Steve’s hands smacked down on the back of the couch, a deep furrow between his brows, irritation clear.

“I’m sick of being _useless_ _!”_ he shouted. “I fixed the arm - and now I’m good for what? What can I do now?”

Steve straightened and crossed his arms. “The world doesn’t revolve around you, Tony, we need to focus on helping Buck-“

“But I can’t, Steve, there’s not a damn thing I can do to help anymore!” Tony threw his arms out, eyes wide and frantic and his tone desperate. He needed Steve to understand. There was nothing for him to do, now. He’d fixed the arm and…. “I’m… I can’t do anything. I, there’s _nothing_ …. What _use_ am I to him right now?”

"You’re being selfish,” Steve snapped. “If you can’t be supportive than-”

 _“Supportive?_ _"_ Tony laughed bitterly. "Oh, that’s _rich_ , I, I have _been_ supportive, but it doesn’t exactly work for _me_ like it does for _you_ , Capsicle!”

"Go to hell, Tony,” Steve snapped, stomping out of the room. He tossed over his shoulder, “Come find me when you’ve decided we’re more important to you than this.”

Tony stared after him, feeling like his insides were vibrating apart even if, when he held his hands in front of him they barely shook. He collapsed onto the couch, staring ahead and running the whole thing through his head again - the latest in a series of increasingly loud, volatile fights between them.

Swallowing tightly, Tony shoved himself off the couch and stumbled to his desk, pulling up the interface again and throwing himself into research, Bruce’s on brainwaves, his own from what he could find on HYDRA’s fucking techniques, the blueprints for the training dummies. It was a futile as it was before Steve had come down but he had to do _something_.

He was tired of being useless. Unnecessary.

Fucking _unwanted._

*~*~*

The next morning, Tony was feeling hopeless again. He’d had a restless night’s sleep, first because he _couldn’t_ sleep, with Steve stiff on the other side of the bed. Tony knew he hadn’t been asleep, and eventually Tony had just gone stomping out to the couch, still angry himself. At first it’d just been at Steve, but then with himself.

He only just noticed the _fucking date_ had been _Valentines Day_.

The addition of guilt to all that anger had left him tossing and turning on the couch, until he’d heard Steve wake up and pretended to still be asleep himself. Steve hadn’t lingered in the kitchen, or…. He’d just left. Tony swallowed past the sick feeling in his stomach, gotten up to shower and have some coffee before heading down to the workshop.

Where it was so obvious how useless he was at the moment.

He had nothing he could do for Bucky. He’d made the training dummies for the Soldier the night before, and that… that had been the only thing he’d been told to do to help.

So he pulled up the latest project SI’s Research Department was working on, refamiliarizing himself with it.

Then he decided that they hadn’t had a visit from him, so he changed into Tony Stark: owner of SI attire and paid his research people a surprise visit.

He was arguing with a few of them about different durabilities of materials when his phone rang - and when he ignored it, rang again. And again.

“Uh… aren’t you going to get that?” asked one of the younger ones, frowning at Tony’s pocket.

“Don’t think so,” Tony replied. “Now listen, I’m telling you-”

The phone in the room rang. Everyone paused what they were doing to look at it, wide-eyed.

“Don’t-” Tony started to say, but one of the interns was already picking it up, cautiously saying, “Stark Industries Research department, this is Brenda, how can I help you?”

Her eyes went very wide and she nodded silently before quickly saying, “Uh, of course, sure, he’s right-” She stuck the phone out to him. “Ms. Potts is on the line.”

Shit.

Tony slunk over, taking the phone and putting it to his ear. “Hey, Pep,” he said, drawing the words out. “What-”

“Tony Stark, do you even realize what time it is?”

“Uh-”

“It is ten at night, these people have lives! You need sleep - did you even eat today? Darcy thinks you haven’t eaten today.”

“You two are not allowed to team up on me.”

“We can, we will, and we will cheat.”

“Obviously. Calling in backup from across the country definitely has to be cheating.” Tony could almost feel the disapproving look over the phone. Sighing, he said, “Alright, fine, we’ll all go home. And I’ve totally eaten, so don’t worry about that. Bye Pep, have fun in California, running my company.”

He hung up before she could say anything else and clapped his hands together, turning to the room with a bright grin.

“It seems, my well-paid-minions, that our lord and tyrant Ms. Potts has called for a cease of all projects until we have all slept and eaten. So, off with you.” He added a good shoo of his hands, earning scattered laughter, and his researchers started packing up, preparing to leave.

One, Brenda, hesitated as the others left and she turned to Tony once they were gone, a frown pulling at her features and giving her wrinkles around the eyes and between her eyebrows. “Are you sure you’re alright Dr. Stark?” she questioned softly.

Tony blinked and stared at her, looking up slightly because she was taller than him and he waved at her. “Fine. Shoo, off with you, to food and rest,” he reassured and shooed at her again.

She hesitated and then nodded, grabbing her stuff as she left, leaving Tony alone in the R&D lab.

He dropped into the closest desk chair - one of the properly spinny ones, because no way was he having anything else in here.

Tony had no inclination to go back to his floor, to play this game of chance with how he and Steve would be getting along. Some nights it felt… like before, before they’d even started being friends, and Tony hated it.

For a few moments, he thought about just staying down here, but somehow Darcy and Pepper would know. JARVIS would likely rat him out, or at least hold it over his head for the foreseeable future.

Groaning under his breath, Tony got to his feet and went back upstairs.

Steve was in the kitchen, making something at the stove. Tony crept by, going to their room to change out of his clothes, tossing them into the corner and yanking on pajamas.

He came back out and hesitated in the doorway of the kitchen.

Steve hadn’t looked up, still cooking whatever it was on the stove. Tony stayed at the doorway for a few moments until he carefully stepped forward. “Hey,” he called, trying to get some normalcy, but unable to just walk over and lean up to kiss Steve’s cheek.

He was terrified that he would get rebuked or worse.

He wasn’t sure what _worse_ would be, however.

Steve hadn’t even responded to him. “Steve?” Tony called, feeling his heart rate pick up as Steve still refused to answer.

“Steve?” he whispered. “Stop it.”

There was still nothing, and Tony could feel that weird almost vibrating feeling in his hands, like before they started shaking, either from a panic attack or from having too much coffee and too little sleep.

“Stop being a dick, Rogers,” he snapped. A moment, and then he shouted, “Fucking answer me!”

Steve slammed something down, the clatter sharp and startling. Tony jerked back, crossed his arms over his chest when Steve finally whipped around to glare at him.

“Oh, so I’m worth your time now?” he said viciously. “You gonna actually listen to anything I say or what?”

“Hey, I tried to make time to be with you and _you_ kept putting me off. Besides - I’ve been busy!” Tony raised his chin, narrowing his eyes. “I had to fix his arm, he - and you were being a controlling asshole!”

“He’s stronger than you! He could have killed you and no one would have been able to stop him!” Steve snapped.

“U and Butterfingers both have a Lewis Special attached and they never moved from watching! JARVIS had them prepped, not to mention the knock-out darts that will down even _Thor_ that were in the ceiling posed over that chair as per _Bucky’s_ pleading back before we got a chair that didn’t give him flashbacks because _sometimes_ you wouldn’t be enough and _he_ knew that!” Tony retorted, feeling adrenaline filling his veins.

He always listened to Steve, but he didn’t always _obey_ , and right now Steve was being an ass. Even though a small, very small, part of Tony just wanted to duck his head, give in, let Steve had his way, the rest of him, which was backed into a corner, roared and snarled and _fought_ against doing just that.

He bowed down to one person who fought in World War II.

He wouldn’t do it again.

“This is different, he’s different - you don’t know anything about what he’s like when he’s the Winter Soldier, not really. I’m not even sure all of that would actually stop him! You’re so fucking careless, damn it,” he swore, stepping closer.

Tony twitched, but didn’t take a step back.

“And what, I was just supposed to sit back and let him suffer? That arm was hurting him, I had to fix it. Just because I was actually managing to do something useful, when you didn’t want me to do anything but sit around like you were doing, doesn’t give you the right to throw a hissy fit!”

Steve’s eyes went wide for a moment before narrowing furiously.

“You want to talk about throwing a hissy fit? Really? _You?_ _”_ Steve laughed, a nasty sound that tightened Tony’s shoulders even further. “What have you been doing this entire fucking time, huh? Patented Stark hissy fit, complete with blaming everyone else for their fuck-ups.”

Tony took a deep breath, ready to shout some more, ready to just… just tear Steve apart, he didn’t need to be influenced by a magic staff to do that, and do it better now that he _really_ knew Steve, knew just where to dig in and rip….

A frantic whining from off to the side caught Tony’s attention, and he looked around, frowning (ignoring Steve saying something in a cutting voice, ignore it ignore it ignore _him_ ).

Peggy was pressed tightly to the floor, hiding under one of the kitchen table chairs, making those little crying noises and….

Tony’s heart broke.

“And once again you’re not even fucking paying any attention. Whenever it’s something you don’t want to hear, you just ignore everyone huh? No one knows better than the great Tony Stark.”

“Shut the fuck up Captain Righteous,” he hissed, giving him a dirty look before turning and going to crouch by the chair. Peggy quieted a bit, dark eyes watching him carefully. She growled a little when he reached out and he paused, waiting. It wasn’t the angry growl - Tony knew that growl, this was too quiet for that. It was a scared growl.

Tony swallowed thickly. “Shh, sweetie, shhh. I’m sorry, I’m sorry.”

“So you’ll-”

“Shut _up_ Steve!”

Peggy whined again, and that was it, Tony was done. He gathered her up in his arms (she was probably too big for it, but it hadn’t stopped any of them from doing it all the time) and turned sharply.

Steve yelled after him, _followed_ him out of the kitchen, insisting they have it out now.

He wasn’t proud of it, but Tony broke into an actual run, almost falling down the stairs, smacking his knee hard enough to really hurt as he skidded into the workshop, snapping out the order to JARVIS for a full lockdown. He felt panicked, like when a fight turned bad or the suit unexpectedly malfunctioned.

The windows went dark, shutters came down, and Tony went straight to one of his cars. Peggy liked to hide under them, and Tony wouldn’t admit it but he tended to hide out in them too on particularly bad days. He hadn’t had one in a while.

The backseat was small, but that didn’t bother him, and he curled up on the smooth leather with Peggy in his lap and half on top of his chest, her face buried against his neck and jaw. Her tongue flicked out, warm and wet, and Tony stroked her back, slow and firm.

“It’s okay, we’re okay. It’ll be fine, I’ve got you.” Tony turned his head, burying it in her fur, making himself slow his breathing and take deep breaths, counting them out in his head. He focused on Peggy, warm, breathing, strong heartbeat, wiggling a bit to get closer to him.

Tony flinched and clung tighter to Peggy when he heard Steve pounding on the windows hard enough to make them wiggle slightly. He couldn’t hear him shouting, the windows having been made of the same thing that would keep the Hulk in and, so far, had even stopped Steve’s shield.

Tony clung a little tighter as the sound continued, as if Steve was now just whole out punching the windows. After a bit, the sounds of blows slowed and then it stopped, which had Tony looking up in surprise, even though he was trying so hard to breathe.

“I gassed him, Sir. He will awaken in approximately 3.4 hours,” JARVIS stated in a calm tone that Tony knew did not mean he was, in fact, calm.

Tony clung more to Peggy and blinked when the emergency door opened. “Sir, if I may suggest going to either Dr. Banner’s or Miss Darcy’s floor?” he offered and Tony hesitated, wondering if he should.  Then he was getting out of the car, and heading towards the emergency exit from the lab.

Built up through the center of the Tower, it could only be opened by JARVIS and had its own ventilation. No one could get in and was the real reason the lab’s vents were so heavily booby-trapped. “Dr. Banner or Miss Darcy Sir?” JARVIS questioned.

“Bruce, please…. Bruce,” he begged, remembering the baby, who was only three months old, and, even though he _desperately_ wanted Darcy, wanted to go straight to her, and hug her and maybe get cookies….

Baby. Marie. Still not really sleeping through the night.

“Of course Sir. Follow the green light,” JARVIS reassured and the green lights went on.

He had only gone down one half-flight before he was forced to set Peggy on her paws, but she stayed practically glued to his side as they continued to make their way down to Bruce’s floor.

Tony paused at Bruce’s door, fingers tapping restlessly over his thigh. He didn’t want to talk - didn’t want to have to say why he was there. He wasn’t even sure he could say anything right now, and he was still shaking, but he could breathe, that was good, he was breathing and it was almost normal.

Peggy sat and leaned against his leg. He dropped a hand to her head, rubbing behind her ears, and after a few more moments finally knocked.

It took longer than he’d have liked, and he’d almost convinced himself to just go… somewhere else, maybe back to his Research department, or hey, Pepper. Pepper lived… somewhere, he bet JARVIS knew, and he could stay there without even telling Pepper about it.

Bruce opened the door.

He blinked, frowned, and stepped aside, holding it wide. Tony walked in, Peggy immediately following after him, her tail starting to wag in small movements. Tony went straight to the couch, pulling his feet up and patting the cushion to encourage Peggy up as well. She tried to crawl back into his lap like when she was a puppy and he leaned over her, stroking again. It was… soothing, and she was calmer and happy with the attention, so he wasn’t going to stop.

Bruce let out a long sigh, the one he used when he was controlling his temper, and asked, “Coffee or tea?”

“Tea,” Tony choked out and Bruce gave an affirming sound before he made obvious sound as he headed for his kitchen.

Tony just kept petting Peggy, focusing on her, and trying not to think about Steve and the fact JARVIS _gassed_ him so Tony could get away. He trembled slightly and Peggy let out a low whine as she wiggled her way further into his embrace, trembling in response to his own, and Tony continued to pet her, clinging to her.

He could hear Bruce making tea, each noise obvious but not irritating, and Tony buried his face into Peggy’s fur and finally gave into the desire to cry.

They were quiet, not there, but he knew, no matter when ( _if_ ) Bucky came back, it was over. There was no coming back from this fight, no coming back from any of this.

He was going to lose them both and… Peggy. He was going to lose Peggy, he was….

He clung a little tighter to Peggy and shook more as the tea kettle whistled in the kitchen.

*~*~*

Bruce glanced into the living room, seeing Tony curled completely over Peggy, shaking. He took another deep breath, settling the Other Guy, and picked up the cups of tea. He made sure to keep making enough noise for Tony to hear him. He wasn’t sure how well the Other Guy would handle seeing Tony startle right now, when he was already having to fight to keep his temper under control.

He quickly debated over whether or not he should sit next to Tony or in the armchair.

Eventually he decided to just sit on the couch as well - leaving enough space so that he wasn’t crowding or touching Tony. Not often, but sometimes… Tony was peculiar about people being in his space, and Bruce suspected that tonight might be one of those times. He cleared his throat and held out the tea.

Tony looked up, eyes glassy and face red, and for a moment he just stared at the tea. Releasing a shaky breath, he reached out to take it, sipping carefully. With a soft sigh, he took a longer drink, slumping back into the arm of the couch.

Peggy shifted, crawling farther into his lap and almost onto his chest. Tony rubbed absently behind her ears with his free hand, sipping at the tea steadily.

“How bad?” Bruce asked, keeping a close eye on Tony, on the tightness around his mouth and the way he twitched when Bruce spoke.

A cracked laugh was the only answer he got, which really, was answer enough. The sound was uncomfortably close to a sob; Tony must have thought so as well because he clamped his lips closed and stared blankly across the room.

Bruce nodded a bit and sipped his tea, soothing the Other Guy that he could punch Steve, who was most likely the cause of this, later. But right now, Tony needed him as Bruce, even if the Other Guy gave ‘good hugs’ which was one of the reasons the Other Guy wanted to get out.

Maybe if they just held Tony tight enough, long enough, nothing could ever hurt their friend again.

It was an irrational thought, of course. They couldn’t do that.

Couldn’t protect Tony from a world that was determined to tear him down. “Well, my floor is your floor. Quite literally in this case. I think I have a spare room you and Peggy can sleep in for as long as you want,” Bruce stated.

Tony shrugged tightly, even as he was saying, “Don’t want to intrude - floor is supposed to be your space after all, and I’m a terrible house guest just ask Pepper.”

Bruce hummed. “I doubt that, really. I really do mean it; you’re welcome to stay, Tony.”

“Maybe just a day or two - there was a… conference thing, Pepper was going to go but maybe I’ll go instead, it’s in Chicago, take a week and a half.... Some, some space, right?” He curled his fingers in Peggy’s fur. “And Darce’ll be fine to watch Peggy - Phil, actually, she’s got baby now.”

Bruce made a soft noise of disagreement, which finally dragged Tony’s eyes to him. “I think, if you can, you should take Peggy with you.” At Tony’s frown, he specified, “She’s already been under a lot of stress from the whole… relapse issue, and after tonight…. I don’t think being separated from you is a good idea.”

He almost wanted to take it back, Tony looked so guilty, but it was… not worth it, but close, when Tony nodded. “Okay. I’ll take her with, it’s not like they don’t expect the whole eccentric billionaire act anyway.”

Bruce nodded and sipped his tea. “And you’ll be on your personal airplane, right? Perfect air pressure, Peggy would be completely safe with you. Don’t you have ‘Iron Dog Armor’ for Peggy along with your briefcase armor?” Bruce asked and Tony gave a nod.

“I did a lot of testing on robotic dogs, but Lucky was an awesome test subject and did enjoy being put through his paces in it. Peggy doesn’t really like it, but if needed, I could have it on me,” Tony responded and Bruce gave another nod.

“And she’ll probably like the space as well, to regain her equilibrium,” Bruce continued, even though he knew Tony already agreed.

There were two more days to get through, two more days of Tony trying to talk himself into depriving himself of Peggy. If Bruce just carefully reminded Tony of how much Peggy needed to be with him, well….

He’d swallow back his guilt over Tony’s guilty face.

Besides, it would be for the best. Bucky was in no state, and Steve obviously couldn’t be trusted at the moment, and well….

Peggy was always upset when she was left with anyone who wasn’t Tony, Steve, or Bucky.

He sipped his tea and the Other Guy settled a bit more, though he did growl a bit about punching the Spangly Man.

“You can update Pepper on the change of plans tomorrow,” he said, even though he didn’t think Tony even had his phone on him. “Are you tired, or planning to stay up for a while?”

Tony looked exhausted, probably even more so because of whatever had happened with Steve, but he shook his head. “Not tired. You can-”

“I was thinking of watching a movie. Preferences?” He got up, moving for the entertainment center.

“You don’t-”

“Tony.” Bruce looked back at him, pointedly. “Preferences.”

It took a while, and Tony wouldn’t look at him as he answered, but the quiet request for something “lighthearted” was as more of an answer than Bruce had been expecting to get. He nodded and smiled, even if Tony wasn’t looking at him to see it, and went to select something for them to watch.

When he settled back down, he let himself sit close enough that he was just barely not touching Tony. Peggy shuffled around, glancing at him and wagging her tail a bit before resettling in Tony’s lap.

If Bruce was lucky, Tony would fall asleep partway through the movie.

*~*~*

Bruce wasn’t lucky.

Tony was, very much, awake as the closing credits rolled and Bruce did need to sleep. He sighed and slowly sat up, carefully picking up the tea cups. “You want me to show you to the guest bedroom or do you want to sit out here with another movie?” Bruce asked softly.

“I’m good,” Tony lied and Bruce nodded a bit.

“Okay Tony. Good night. I’ll see you in the morning. Eggs, toast, and bacon for breakfast,” Bruce stated, knowing if he didn’t try to shove food down Tony’s throat, he’d never eat.

He hoped someone would cover lunch, even as Tony nodded vaguely, staring at the television. Bruce resisted the urge to sigh and instead retreated to his room.

Maybe Tony just needed space, for a bit.

It just wasn’t healthy, keeping everything bottled up like that.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alright, before you all freak out on us, a reminder that there are two sides to every story. We'll hear a bit of what was going through Steve's head next week, I promise. NOT promising it'll excuse anything, but am promising explanation.
> 
> Just try to trust us with everything we've got going on here. That's all we're asking. ;) It's a long story, and we've got a long ways to go still.


	10. Chapter 10

Darcy sighed, sitting across from Bruce, and said, “So he’s left already? To get an _early start?_ ”

“That’s what he said,” Bruce sighed. “At least he took Peggy with him.”

“Small mercies,” she muttered, glancing up as Natasha walked in, Marie in her arms. “Should we get eyes on him?”

Natasha frowned, head tilting as she thought. Marie made a happy noise and stretched a hand out for one of Natasha’s curls, just out of reach.

“No. If he’s getting space, he won’t appreciate our interference. At least for the length of the conference, we should leave him. If he takes time before returning… perhaps it will be time to call in reinforcements.”

Darcy hummed in agreement. Bruce glanced between them. “Reinforcements?” he asked.

“Rhodes.”

“Ah. That’s… a really good idea, honestly.” He wished one of them had thought of calling in Rhodey before; he was, after all, Tony’s oldest friend and well versed with all the ways Tony refused to admit he was hurting. Of course, James Rhodes was probably more likely than the Other Guy to react badly to the sight of a hurting Tony.

“And what’s the situation with…?” Bruce gestured vaguely, glad when both women seemed to understand him. They exchanged long looks.

“The Soldier is still the Soldier, and he’s taking a great deal of this with stride, however he seems to be… displeased with the fact Tony’s left,” Darcy answered.

“You told him?” Bruce asked.

“He asked. I like rewarding thinking beyond orders,” Darcy responded with a shrug.

“The good Captain, however, has removed himself to his original floor, as JARVIS refuses to allow him access to Tony’s floor and, thus, the workshop,” Natasha continued.

“So Steve really did….” Bruce began and Darcy nodded, once, sharply.

That was enough to have Bruce thankful he wasn’t Steve.

Having Darcy prowling towards someone, with the intent to kill? It was not a pleasant idea, especially as she was only the first foray into the hunt.

Pepper and Rhodes would soon be at her heels, and all of them were baying for Steve’s blood.

The Other Guy chuckled darkly at that and Bruce hid his frown at the chuckle with his tea cup.

He knew that Steve had a side, knew it wasn’t black and white. That there was a _reason_ Steve had acted this way. Well, reacted might be a more proper term.

His S.H.I.E.L.D. files said that he had once been pretty small, and, in chronological memories, it has only been a decade (maybe; Bruce was a little sketchy about that part) since Steve had had the body they all knew him as, which was less than half his lifetime. If he had anger problems (which… he probably did; the man did _not_ back down from a fight, ever) when he was small, they would only have been… enhanced by the serum.

The Other Guy was proof of that lovely side-effect, which had never been mentioned in the files for the serum he had been using.

Sometimes, Bruce really wanted to murder General Ross.

Bruce was pulled out of his thoughts when he heard Marie give a happy coo and he looked up in time to watch Darcy toss the blanket over Marie, and her shoulder, before the girl fully latched on. “She always eats better that way,” Darcy muttered in slight embarrassment.

“I’d throw it over you if you didn’t,” Natasha responded.

“So possessive,” Darcy teased and Bruce sipped his tea before he focused down on his StarkPad and began to poke at some theories before putting them into practice.

When the Other Guy was a bit….calmer, he would go see if he could get Steve’s side of things.

*~*~*

“You know, when I said you should talk things out with Tony, shouting at him and sending him into a panic wasn’t exactly what I was talking about,” Sam stated.

Steve sighed sharply, clenching his jaw against the first biting retort that jumped forward. “I lost my temper,” Steve responded, crossing his arms across his chest.

It was more than just losing his temper, of course. Waking up after a few hours unconscious, groggy until he’d figured out just what had happened….

Steve didn’t want to revisit the realization he’d had in that moment. He supposed he could try to explain it to Sam - that what he’d been feeling when he followed Tony had been something horrible beyond anger… but he couldn’t bring himself to. It left him feeling too vulnerable, even for Sam. And the anger - it was easier to focus on the anger.

It hurt far less to focus on the anger.

“Man, there’s no excuse for waiting to talk to him until you were on a hair trigger.” Sam held up a hand when Steve started to protest. “I’m not saying he wasn’t an ass as well - I’ve met the guy. He’s got the whole ‘hit you where it hurts the most’ thing down pat. Which you know.” He pinned Steve with a look, scolding. “It doesn’t change what _you_ did, Steve.”

“I’d apologize,” Steve said tersely, “but I’m not allowed on our floor anymore.”

“Yeah, I wonder why that is,” Sam replied dryly.

Steve shot him a glare and Sam returned it with a slight eyebrow raise and a completely flat look. “Because, you know, you just sent the powerful AI’s father into a panic attack that prompted gassing you so you passed out,” Sam continued.

“I get it. I messed up, but how can I… fix things when he won’t even let me near him?” Steve demanded.

“Maybe give him space? Steve, you seriously set off a shit-ton of red flags for him, probably. He’s going to have to reorganize his headspace, remember that you are safe again, all that, on top of having to handle Bucky as the Soldier. He probably just doesn’t want you hearing his nightmares,” Sam explained and Steve sighed as he scrubbed his hands over his face. There was the guilt again, churning and sick and deep in his gut, trying to shove up past the anger.

“I hope Peggy’s getting her morning run,” Steve muttered.

“Steve, she hasn’t been getting that since the Soldier came back,” Sam retorted and Steve shot him a look.

“I asked JARVIS,” he supplied and Steve groaned as he hid his face in his hands again.

“JARVIS won’t even answer when I ask him something, unless he has to.”

“I’m thinking you deserve that,” Sam said with a shrug.

“I guess,” Steve muttered. He closed his eyes, still hiding his face in his hands, and took a few deep breaths. He was angry, still. Steve just couldn’t tell if it was more with himself, or everyone else. It was irrational, he knew it was, wanting to blame the others for letting it get this bad. That was his fault - he knew he didn’t handle abrupt change and emotional pain of this level well. He should have known better. He - he was so angry, with himself, and so horrified, and lost, and...

At this point, everything was a jumbled mess in his head and he had no idea where to start to try to fix it.

Which was why he’d come to Sam. Except Sam wasn’t… well, helping like Steve had expected. Or wanted. Partially, that was his fault. He hadn’t told Sam all the details; oh, Sam knew what had happened, but he didn’t know everything on Steve’s end.

There wasn’t anyone else Steve could think of going to. The team seemed to be giving him the cold shoulder _(he deserved it)_. He’d even gotten a look from _Phil_ , which was frankly as terrifying as the disappointed one he got from Natasha.

“Listen, maybe-” Sam said, putting a hand on Steve’s shoulder.

The elevator dinged.

“Shit,” Sam hissed in surprise, sitting up straight. Steve dropped his hands, shifting, preparing -

“B- Soldier?” he asked. “What are you doing off your floor?” Steve hadn’t even known he was allowed to leave without Darcy or Phil giving permission.

Bucky - the Soldier didn’t answer, but his eyes were narrowed, his face not expressionless as it had been the times Steve had seen him. It almost hinted at irritation.

“I have an inquiry.”

It was… honestly the first time Steve could think of him coming to Steve to actually ask something, and not just _responding_ because someone sought him out and asked a direct question.

“What do you want to ask?” Sam said quietly.

The Soldier glanced to Sam, then back at Steve. Steve nodded and watched as the Soldier straightened further, staring him right in the eyes and demanding, “What is the return date for the Mechanic?”

Steve frowned, confused for a moment. There wasn’t a mechanic in the Tower, and why Bucky would care about someone fixing cars -

“You mean Tony?” he asked.

The Soldier seemed to consider this a moment before allowing it with a nod. “Dr. Tony Stark, yes.”

“What do you mean return date?” Steve demanded, shoving out of his chair, a sense of desperation, of fear, slamming into him. It mixed sourly with the guilt in his gut. Sam quickly stood up as well, coming over to place a hand on Steve’s shoulder, like it would hold him back.

The Soldier was glancing uneasily between them, weight shifting for a moment like he wanted to step back, away from them. It made Steve realize what an imposing picture they must make, getting up and standing shoulder-to-shoulder, staring intently.

“Soldier,” Sam said calmly. “More information, please.”

The Soldier’s frown deepened, the hints irritation back. “The Mechanic has been gone for three days and the Commander did not provide a date for his return beyond ‘soon’. I require a more detailed response.” When Steve stared at him, he actually added a very firm, “ _Now_.”

“Bucky - where did he go? Where’s Tony?” Steve asked frantically, taking a few steps forward, only to be stopped by Sam’s sharp pinch inside his elbow. He cast Steve a warning look.

The Soldier frowned at them, head tilting. “Who is Bucky?”

It ripped at something in Steve, and he let out a strangled shout, turning and punching the nearest flat surface - the door of a cupboard. It cracked into two pieces.

 _Oh god,_ Steve thought, staring blankly at it. Again, he was… it almost happened again.

“Captian Rogers!” Sam snapped.

“Master James, I request you retreat from the Captain immediately. I have contacted the Commander about this incident, Captain,” JARVIS added sternly.

He glared up at the ceiling, anger surging at JARVIS’ interference again, and then caught sight of Bucky’s face. Pale, still, afraid.

Steve slumped. “Okay.” He felt like he was going to choke on his guilt and fear.

It seemed an eternity before Darcy swept in, the Lewis Special out and the moment she was clear, pointed straight at Steve. “Soldier, retreat to the elevator,” she ordered and the Soldier obeyed, quickly and economically.

“Sam, get him somewhere else,” Darcy ordered as she backed away, keeping her Lewis Special trained on Steve, though her body language had gone from ‘ready to fire’ to ‘holding position’.

“Ma’am yes ma’am,” Sam responded and the elevator doors slid shut.

“Steve, come on, I think we _all_ need some quiet space,” Sam pressed and Steve nodded tiredly, wondering how things had gone so _wrong._

*~*~*

“The Mechanic?” the Soldier asked, back on his floor, in the safe place, the Commander carefully setting a huge mug of some steaming, frothy, chocolate smelling liquid down in front of him.

“The Mechanic retreated to an outside obligation due to the stress being placed upon him by the Captain, yes. You are not allowed to go after the Captain. He is, usually, a good command leader, but there are extenuating circumstances at work at the moment. I am hoping that the Mechanic will return by the end of the conference. I cannot be sure that he will. The conference ends in two weeks. If he does _not_ return at that time, we will send third-tier agents after him, but if he continues to evade, well… peaceful and completely calm methods only, Soldier,” the Commander answered and nodded to the mug.

“That will help,” she stated and the Soldier picked it up carefully, cradling it in his hands as he inhaled it slowly.

“Status?” the Commander asked.

“Functioning,” the Soldier responded and sipped the liquid.

Liquid chocolate.

How… unexpected.

The Commander nodded, making to rise, and the Soldier set the drink down.

“Does the Mechanic have backup?” he asked. Despite being told it was an outside obligation, there had to be concern about one agent - even, or perhaps especially, a scientist - on their own somewhere away from the rest of the team.

“He does not require backup,” the Commander said, gentle but in a way that signaled it wasn’t to be argued. “The Mechanic can take care of himself, I promise you that.”

He had no choice but to take her word for it. The Soldier nodded, reaching for the drink again.

The Commander was watched him thoughtfully before nodding to herself. “JARVIS, please pull up footage of Iron Man in action.”

“Right away, Commander,” the Voice responded, and the screen across the room turned on, footage immediately coming up, though it was frozen still.

“This is one of our agents, Iron Man. One of our heavy hitters, and our few flight-capable agents.”

The footage began to play, and the Soldier watched closely. The metal suit on the screen, in bright red and gold, was nothing at all like his arm. It moved differently, shifted with movements in a way his arm didn’t, and he realized he was cataloguing weaknesses and things he’d have to avoid in a fight. He made himself push it aside, because this… Iron Man was an agent.

More footage. Iron Man in flight, Iron Man fighting using blue light that flared from his palm, familiar blue light, and…

The Soldier frowned, getting up, walking to the screen. Almost as if anticipating what the Soldier wanted, the image froze. Carefully, the Soldier reached up and traced a finger around the edge of the glowing blue circle in the center of the suit.

“The Mechanic,” he said softly.

“The Mechanic,” the Commander confirmed gently and the Soldier looked over at her.

She was staring at the screen, looking sad, but also… reminiscing. “Tony built the prototype of that suit in a cave, with only one helper, and the prototype of that circle in his chest on his own. And I didn’t tell you about the helper,” she stated and tugged at her suit jacket.

“That suit is entirely a prosthetic and a lot of perceived weaknesses seem to be just bulls-eyes that aren’t really bulls-eyes to draw people’s attention away from the real weaknesses. The War Machine, or Iron Patriot or _whatever_ he is called at the moment, who is Colonel Rhodes, is his best friend from MIT. If Tony needs any help he can, and will, drop everything to go help him and get there faster than anyone,” she finished and nodded to herself.

She turned to head to the elevator, before she paused and turned back to him. “Please don’t call him Iron Man. The original idea was to make you think Iron Man and Tony were… separate. I told them it wouldn’t work, but… there you have it. JARVIS, give him access to the Avengers files. Start helping him understand their formation and background as best as you can. If you have any inquiries, Soldier, send them through me. I have… light duties at the moment. And remember to finish the hot chocolate before it gets _too_ cold,” the Commander stated and then she was gone.

The Solider slowly returned to where he had been sitting, picking the drink - the hot chocolate up and drinking it. He stared at the screen, the Iron Man suit and knowing that it was the Mechanic inside. It… changed his perceptions of their interactions.

It… actually made the Mechanic’s skill with the Soldier’s arm make a little more sense. He was familiar with metal prosthetics.

“If you wish to look through the files the Commander was talking about, they will be available on the tablet in the top drawer in the desk on your right,” the voice informed him.

The Soldier would look through those. Soon. After he finished processing the new data about the Mechanic.

~*~*~

“Well, my house is your house,” Sam stated as he showed Steve the guest room.

He watched as Steve looked around, quiet and… a bit defeated, honestly. There was a reason, beyond watching Riley, his wingman, his best friend, get shot out of the sky, that he left the Pararescue.

Search and rescue, getting people out. Medical training, minor psychological training.

A lot of vets who didn’t have anger management problems going over had them coming back. “Steve?” Sam called and Steve looked over at him.

“Have you considered anger management?” Sam asked.

“What good would it do?” Steve answered and Sam gave a little shrug.

“Never know until you try,” Sam stated.

Steve gave another shrug and Sam let it go. When Steve went with him to volunteer at the VA, Sam would make sure Mercy was waiting for them.

He was going to get Steve into anger management even if he had to _drag_ the good captain over burning hot coals to do it.

*~*~*

“It’s just for a night or two,” Tony said, taking the coffee Bruce pushed his way. “Can’t stay long, people to schmooze, money to make.”

“Is that so?” Bruce asked. “You know you’re welcome to stay as long as you need.”

Tony waved a hand, not looking at him. “Nope, sorry, charity ball in San Francisco, very important for SI. Pepper wasn’t going to put it on my schedule but… I told her to stop making excuses for me.”

“You have a lot going on, Tony. It’s understandable to-”

“Well I’d rather be keeping busy, thanks,” Tony snapped. Sighing in frustration, he put his coffee down and dragged his hands through his hair. “Bruce,” he said, voice pleading. “Bruce I need to stay busy okay? I need… I can’t, can’t just _sit around_ here anymore. I can’t… be here right now.”

“Okay, Tony,” Bruce assured quietly. “But… you can’t start fixing things if you keep running. You know that, right?”

Tony’s laugh was bitter, making Bruce look at him closely. Tony glanced up, smirk almost sad, like he knew something that Bruce didn’t but wasn’t happy about it for once. “Sure Bruce. Got it.” He pushed up, turning to go. “I’m gonna get some rest, I’ll see you.”

Peggy followed after him, leaving Bruce alone in the kitchen with two cups on the table, and too many thoughts in his head.

~*~*~

Bruce hesitated before knocking. He tried once again to phrase how to say what he needed to say, what he was sure needed to be said. But it wasn’t quite right, and he couldn’t figure out how to tell someone without feeling like he was betraying Tony.

Sighing, he raised his hand to knock. The door opened, revealing just Darcy, which was frankly a relief. Bruce wasn’t sure he could say this with Natasha listening as well; not because he didn’t trust her, but because he knew Tony wouldn’t be entirely comfortable with it.

“Tea?” Darcy asked. Bruce shook his head, sitting on the couch with her.

“Marie’s taking her nap,” Darcy explained when she saw him looking around curiously. “What did you need to talk to me about?”

Bruce took a deep breath. “You know that Tony came back.”

“Yeah.” Her head tilted, eyes narrowing curiously. “I had lunch with him.”

“How did he… seem?”

“Tired. Sad.”

“I….”

“Bruce.” She set her hand on his. “Tell me.”

“I told him he can’t start fixing things if he keeps running.”

“I’m sure he didn’t take that well,” Darcy said with a grimace. “I can-”

“He laughed. Told me ‘sure’ and then claimed he was tired and went to the bedroom.” Bruce pulled his hand from under Darcy’s, unable to help clenching his together in his lap. “I mean, it’s nothing concrete, but… it’s not his usual reaction. I just wondered if maybe I was overreacting. You know him well, too, so I… thought I’d see if you noticed anything.”

“No,” she said slowly. “But he’s good at hiding things, sometimes, and we didn’t talk too much about Steve. I didn’t want to bring it up yet.”

Bruce nodded. “He left for a charity ball in San Francisco. I checked with Pepper if she was going too, but she said that Tony had told her to stay, to ‘go out and have fun for once.’”

Darcy sighed, nodding. “Alright. I’ll call Rhodes, maybe he can get something out of him.”

Bruce slumped with relief, breathing out heavily. “Okay. I just - I’m worried, I’d feel better if someone was there with him. He’s avoiding everyone here, so I just….”

“Yeah,” Darcy agreed quietly. “I’ll call Rhodey right away, let him know about the situation.”


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry about the delay. Let's just go with "weekends" instead of Saturdays, yeah? lol.

It took a few days for everything to get taken care of, but by the end of the week Rhodey had managed to finally get to Tony.

He’d missed the charity ball by a day, but from what Pepper said Tony hadn’t left the city yet. Rhodey wasn’t sure if Tony knew he was coming, but the staff at the hotel seemed to, because he was let right on up to Tony’s suite.

He let himself in with the key card he’d been given, glancing around and raising his brows at the lack of any signs of anyone living there. Especially Tony, who tended to strew his things about spaces as if to claim them. No signs of Peggy, either, and Pepper had said the poodle had been with Tony.

Easing farther inside, he glanced in the rooms he passed. Empty extra room, some kind of sitting room, a bedroom that had Tony’s suitcase and looked like it hadn’t been touched otherwise.

He found Tony sitting on the floor in the bathroom, staring at himself in the full length mirror.

Crouching down next to him, Rhodey considered the best way to approach this.

“Can you even feel your ass anymore?”

Tony shook his head.

Rhodey let out a quiet sigh. This was definitely not good, if Tony wasn’t even attempting to crack a joke or fake a smile. He folded himself down in front of him, blocking Tony’s view of the mirror. Tony ducked his head, knees drawing up.

Rhodey swallowed.

 _Very_ bad then.

“Talk to me, Tones.” He didn’t reach out to touch him, not yet, with Tony giving off so many warning signs. He waited a bit, before ducking his head to try to catch Tony’s eyes. Even though he didn’t, the effort would help. “Hey, you know you can tell me anything. I’m here, whatever you need man.”

Tony swallowed, ducking his head until his forehead was pressed to his knees. He exhaled a shuddering breath.

“I… fucked up,” he confessed thickly. “God, Rhodey, I really… really fucked up.”

“What happened?” he asked, leaning forward. Already he was running through several possible scenarios, tossing some aside because Tony didn’t - and even with things as bad as they were, wouldn’t - cheat on Bucky and Steve.

Tony made a strangled sound, like he’d tried to laugh and choked on it. “I… at the charity ball, I….” He took a deep breath again, voice cracking as he whispered, “I drank. I fell off the goddamn wagon, and I had… god, I don’t know, enough drinks that I am a little fuzzy on getting back here.”

Rhodey shifted closer, reaching out to put a hand on Tony’s shoulder, squeezing. “Alright.”

Tony looked at him, finally, even if it was an expression of disbelief. “I just told you I fucked up with the whole sobriety thing and all you can say is ‘alright’?”

Rhodey looked back, right in his eyes. “Yeah.”

“How is it fucking alright?” Tony asked, lifting a hand and waving it wildly. His brows pulled down into a frustrated, confused frown. “I - I was supposed to have this, it’s been - god, what, a year? Almost a year, and I fucked up. I-”

“You’ve been under a lot of fucking stress lately,” Rhodey interrupted calmly. “You have lost one of your boyfriends to a terrorist organization that scares all the other terrorist organizations. You got him back after over a month, only for him to have gotten amnesia back to before you even met him. From what I’ve been told, your other boyfriend has been an ass, triggered what I’ve heard is a pretty nasty panic attack, and sent you running all across the country so you don’t have to face him again. So you slipped up. This isn’t irreversible. A lot of people, who are getting professional help, slip up. You’re still only human, Tony.”

Tony stared at him, almost expressionless if not for the desperate look in his eyes.

“Only thing you can do is get up and try again.”

Tony shifted, leaning towards Rhodey, and Rhodey took it for the request it was, wrapping his arm around Tony’s shoulders and pulling him in close.

When Tony’s breath was steadier, Rhodey encouraged him up off the frankly freezing floor and into the bedroom, tossing clothes at Tony to change into and then plopping onto the bed, arms folded behind his head. He didn’t move as Tony settled down next to him, not curling into him but pressed close against his side.

They didn’t turn on the TV, didn’t talk. Rhodey stared up at the ceiling and considered what he might do from here to help. He was proud enough Tony had made it this long without giving in to the urge to drink, but he didn’t think Tony would see or appreciate that.

“Didn’t you bring your poodle with you?” Rhodey asked, adding just enough teasing into his tone that Tony cracked a little smile.

“Peggy.”

“I know, I just still think it’s hilarious that you got a poodle.”

Tony shifted, glancing around the room, before leaning over to drop a hand over the side of the bed. “You gonna come out now?” he said, soft and in a sweet, coaxing tone. It made Rhodey grin.

After a moment, Tony shrugged, leaving his hand over the side of the bed but looking back to Rhodey. “She usually hides under my cars.”

Rhodey snorted.

It took a few minutes, during which they were both silent again. But soon Tony was moving, reaching down and urging the big poodle up onto the bed with them. She wiggled up between them, head resting on Tony’s chest, half-blocking the light of the reactor. Tony stroked her head, then offered his fingers, which she licked before carefully setting her teeth around, holding.

“I came back pretty… drunk,” Tony whispered, voice cracking on the word. “I didn’t hurt her,” he said quickly. Before Rhodey could say he’d known that, that Tony would never hurt her, Tony was adding, “I just… I think it made her scared, anyway.”

“She’s probably not used to it.”

Tony shrugged, watching Peggy instead of looking at Rhodey.

“I don’t… I think I need… help,” he admitted. “With the… the drinking.”

Rhodey looked at him, waiting until Tony glanced at him to say, “However I can help, tell me.”

Tony looked away again, but not fast enough for Rhodey to miss the flash of unease and vulnerability. “I think... I think I need to go to a rehab center,” he said in a rush.

“Okay,” Rhodey said, carefully keeping his surprise out of his tone and face. “What can I do?”

“Find one? I don’t - I don’t think I can do that, but I… I’ll go. Just… help me find one? Preferably somewhere that isn’t going to go screaming to the press that they have Tony Stark with them for….”

“Alright. Is it okay if I talk to some people about places they’d suggest?”

Tony glanced at him. “I trust you to talk to people that aren’t going to fuck me over.”

“Alright. Give me a few days. I’ll tell Pepper,” he offered.

Tony nodded. “Thanks.” His voice was small and quiet - it reminded Rhodey too much of the kid from MIT admitting that his dad hadn’t liked that he had a boyfriend, and agreeing to stay with Rhodey for a few days.

Rhodey nodded, reaching over to stroke over Peggy’s back, and went back to staring at the ceiling.

He was going to _kill_ Steve Rogers.

*~*~*

“Wilson here,” Sam greeted as he answered his cell, glancing worriedly over at Steve, who was on his couch.

The man was _not_ handling this well, at all. Sam was doing his best to help, but mostly that just meant he listened and offered honest suggestions.

Such as anger management.

Steve wasn’t exactly open to them at the moment, though, and forcing Steve to go wasn’t the easier, or best, thing to do.

“ _Hey Sam,”_ James Rhodes greeted.

“James, hey! How is it going?” Sam responded quietly.

“ _Could be better, is… better, in a way,”_ James answered.

“Well, everything’s different on the ground,” Sam stated with a tiny smile.

“ _Don’t I know it. No, just… do you you know any rehab places that are extremely discreet for alcohol addiction? That’s… not AA and does real world preparation? And… maybe allows dogs?”_ James asked and Sam glanced over at where Steve was stretched out on his couch and muttered, “Hold on.”

He grabbed his keys and tugged on his jacket before he glanced over at Steve. “Steve?” he called and Steve lifted his head to look at Sam.

“I’m going for a walk, okay?” he called and Steve nodded slightly before burying himself back down into the sofa and Sam was out the door, locking the front door of his house behind him.

“ _Wow, I am so glad I am on the West Coast right now,”_ James muttered.

“Hey, hey, we have a rule James. And… is Tony going to rehab?” Sam responded.

“ _Yeah, Tony asked me to help him find a rehab center, but I don’t know any places. Pep’s already been told,”_ James answered.

Sam sighed and gave a nod. “I know a couple of places… and there’s one in the countryside that has a very strict ‘no reporters’ policy. Getting him in and out won’t be a problem. I can… I can set up an appointment. The Soldier’s not going to like it,” Sam answered as he walked along, the cold air curling around his face.

“ _What do you mean, the Solder’s not going to like it?”_ James retorted.

“Darcy told me that the Soldier has gotten… fixated on Tony. He keeps asking her if he can go keep an eye out on him. She told him that everything was alright, but I don’t think he believes her. And Tony could be there anywhere from a week to... longer? It is a very open ended plan and focuses on helping everyone permanently kick their addiction in the real world,” Sam responded.

“ _So, basically, he won’t have an ETA and it is going to drive him up the wall ?”_ James said. “ _I get that, but he’s just going to have to deal,”_ James finished.

“Yeah, you get to tell him that,” Sam retorted.

“ _I_ _will. And we’re not telling_ Tony _how the Soldier is taking his… absence. He won’t go otherwise_ ,” James finished quietly.

“I’ll set up an appointment and get back to you,” Sam promised.

“ _Thanks,”_ Rhodey sighed. “ _I_ _gotta get back to Tony. I appreciate your help, Sam.”_

“Don’t mention it,” Sam said.

He sighed and slipped the phone into his pocket, shaking his head and continuing his walk instead of turning back for his place. He’d have to make sure none of the team figured this out.

He didn’t know who knew, but he wasn’t going to be the one to spill the beans. If Tony was willing to actually go to rehab, something must have happened - well, it was clear really what likely had.

He’d wait until Steve was occupied to make the call.

Maybe with trying to fend off the anger management therapist.

*~*~*

“And I can keep Peggy?” Tony asked as he held onto the dog.

Helena Carson hadn’t… when Sam Wilson had called her saying that _Tony Stark_ wanted to enter their alcohol rehab program, she hadn’t believed it. She thought it was going to be some sort of publicity stunt, even if he was Iron Man now.

But this… this wasn’t the Tony Stark she saw on the news. He clung to the black and curly Labradoodle (she knew what that cross was called, that ‘designer’ dog) he called Peggy, tightly, fingers burying into her curly hair like she was the only one he had left that kept him sane. He was shaking and he wasn’t fully looking at her, head ducked low, and Colonel James Rhodes was there, one hand on Tony’s shoulder, in a very… protective manner.

“Of course you can, Mr. Stark. We believe in trying to keep your life as… close as we can to daily routine. We have a mechanics workshop and stables. And a lot of dog runs where Peggy can make some new friends during your meetings. We also have solitary rooming, for those who… don’t feel comfortable with a roommate,” Helena answered gently and Tony nodded.

He looked so… small, in her homey office of wood and bronze, meant to give the comfort of old-fashioned home over a psychologist’s office.

“Right, um… Rhodey….” Tony stated and Rhodes nodded.

“I already talked to Pep. We’re going to have a good cover story for as long as you’re gone,” he promised and Tony nodded before he looked up at Helena.

“Well, before your final decision, we should have a tour. Come on,” Helena stated as she stood up, tugging her grey pant suit into place.

Tony rose, struggling for a bit to keep a hold of Peggy, stepping back and twisting his body when Rhodes moved to help. They spoke very quietly, and Tony shifted until he had a better - if still awkward - grip. She led the way out, taking them on the usual tour. She kept a close but subtle eye on the two men.

Tony didn’t speak unless Rhodes asked him something, clutched Peggy to him the whole time (not that she seemed to mind it at all), and kept his head down

This was definitely not what she had expected. Helena had seen men and women like him before though.

At the end of the tour, she turned to them and before she could ask, Tony was nodding.

“Yeah, here. I can… I think here is good.” He tucked his chin down into Peggy’s fur, until his nose was almost in the curls.

“Alright, Tones.” Rhodes put a hand on his back and looked to her.

“We’ll go back to my office and get everything finalized,” she said.

*~*~*

“I still don’t think this is a good idea, Colonel Rhodes,” Coulson sighed. “He’s been more easily… aggravated over the past week.”

“He expected Tony back sooner. None of us will give him what he thinks is a good enough answer as to where he is or when he’ll be back, let alone why he hasn’t returned at the expected time.” Darcy sighed, running a hand through her hair. “Just… take the Lewis Special,” she said, handing it to him. “Be prepared for him to react badly. We’ve already briefed him on you, so as long as you introduce yourself as either Colonel Rhodes or… whatever your armor is being called lately, he’ll know who you are.”

Rhodey nodded, keeping a good grip on the taser, and turned for the elevator.

“Any extra advice, JARVIS?” he asked once he was heading down.

“I would, perhaps, make it clear to him that Sir is important to you as well. That you were concerned for his wellbeing, and have taken measures to make sure he is being taken care of.”

“Okay.” He took a deep breath as it slowed to a stop. Show time.

Despite the numerous warnings, despite the footage he’d seen both on the television and from intelligence agencies, despite the broken words he’d managed to encourage Tony to string together about the Soldier….

Seeing it was completely different.

Completely terrifying.

It was, like Tony had said, Bucky and so very clearly not. Beyond physical appearances being similar, there was a complete difference in how he carried himself. His eyes were blank. He looked ready to fly across the room and rip Rhodey’s throat out with his fingers, honestly.

Rhodey straightened further and pulled together every ounce of command he possessed.

“Soldier,” he greeted. “I’m Colonel Rhodes, pilot of the Iron Patriot armor. I’m here to debrief you on Tony Stark.”

That prompted a change, though Rhodey wasn’t sure it was a good one. The eyes, blank before, sharpened with an unsettling focus. The shift in posture was… dangerous, and Rhodey narrowed his eyes.

“Stand down,” he ordered. “I was under no obligation to come here.” He hesitated, thinking of JARVIS’ advice, and admitted, “But Tony’d want you to know.”

The Soldier didn’t really stand down, but after a moment Rhodey decided he wasn’t as likely to spring across the room with some hidden weapon that Tony had told him he was sure the Soldier had.

“The Commander informed me that she told you about the reason for Tony leaving first. Because of a… disagreement with Captain Rogers.” He let out a deep breath. “Tony does not handle fighting with people he cares about well. He runs,” Rhodey said bluntly. “That is why immediately after returning from the first trip he left on another.”

He paused, assessing the Soldier for any changes. He had his complete attention, and there was in fact less aggression in his posture. Rhodey wondered if that’d change as he kept explaining.

“Tony was a… sober alcoholic. He’d given it up around a year ago for… reasons I am not allowed to discuss here. However, while on his second trip he fell off the wagon. It shook him up, and he decided to seek professional help. He asked me to help him find somewhere that would not abuse the fact that they had Iron Man, Tony Stark, with them.

“I took him there myself, made sure it was safe and he was as comfortable as he reasonably could be. We unfortunately do not have an ETA for this kind of situation. It could be a week or two. It could be months.” He paused, eying the Soldier. “He wants to be there. He wants to get better, really get better this time.’’

The Soldier stared at him. After what seemed to be minutes but wasn’t, he simply asked, “He has the armor with him?”

“Tony doesn’t go anywhere without it,” Rhodey promised. “Frankly, after some of the things he’s gotten into, I wouldn’t let him.

“This isn’t common information,” Rhodey added, warningly. “The Director and Commander know. Falcon knows. Miss Potts knows. Tony didn’t say who could and couldn’t be informed, so it’s my prerogative. I do not want the Captain knowing, Soldier. When Tony’s back, they can talk about it, when they’ve worked things out, but until then he’s not to know. Understood?”

“Yes sir.”

“Good.”

*~*~*

The Soldier frowned slightly as he began to change into an outfit that would help him blend in. Stronger than usual, it would hold up under a great deal of stress and blend in easily with the night.

He would have to be careful, considering he was on foot most of the way, but it was only a few hundred miles.

The Soldier was not… satisfied with the reports he received and so decided he needed to survey this mission himself.

The Director had been trying to keep him out of the loop, but the Commander (and while there was some dissension in the ranks, it was not enough for the Commander to become the Director) was in a disagreement and had provided, in-between the pages of a hard copy file on the Captain, the address of where the Mechanic was.

He pulled on the gloves last, flexed his hands, and debated grabbing any weapons before he shook his head.

This was to be a purely reconnaissance mission with minimum interaction. He grabbed the wallet that he had found, with cash and an ID card in it, during the first days of having his metal arm out of commission, and tucked it into his pants’ front pocket.

Patting himself all over, he tugged his hair into a ponytail through the back of a baseball cap and he headed for the stairs.

The door opened with a soft hiss and the Soldier walked quickly down the stairs. He was careful, avoiding the cameras, and soon he was out of the Tower and after a swift calculation, headed for the nearest train station.

He would thank the Voice for the information when he got back to the Tower.

After he checked on his Mechanic.

*~*~*

“Miss Lewis?” JARVIS called and Darcy glanced up at the ceiling of her office.

“Yes JARVIS?” she responded.

“The Soldier has left the Tower,” he stated and Darcy smirked.

“Just walked right out, huh J?” she questioned and JARVIS was pointedly silent.

“He have any weapons?” she asked.

“He was unarmed, Miss Lewis,” JARVIS answered.

“I’ll tell Phil tomorrow, if I see him,” Darcy stated as she focused on her computer once more.

“Of course Darcy.”

Darcy grinned at her computer screen as she typed in a request for tonight’s video surveillance.

*~*~*

“Darcy, what do you _mean_ the Soldier has been gone for one and a half days?” Phil asked.

“Just that. He escaped, unarmed, from his floor and just… disappeared,” Darcy answered and Phil ran his hands through his hair with a low sound of stress.

“Baby, don’t do that. I don’t want you losing your hair faster than you already are,” Clint stated and Phil glared at him while Clint beamed.

“A rogue, brain-washed, amnesiac assassin is out on the loose, and you’re worried about my hair?” Phil questioned.

“I’m always worried about your hair. It is a diminishing resource and should be protected at all times,” Clint responded.

“What direction was he headed?” Phil asked.

“When he left the building? Not a clue. Avoided the cameras,” Darcy answered as she resettled Marie in her sling as she began to fuss.

“He is a ghost,” Clint added.

“Out of my office, both of you! I have to start a - subtle - manhunt!” Phil demanded and both of them cheekily saluted before they ran out of his office.

“Tony?” Clint asked quietly.

Darcy rocked the ‘y’ symbol back and forth in response.

*~*~*

Tony sighed as he walked into the little house at the rehab center that was just for him, one of the little square foot things for people who wanted complete privacy. Which was what Tony wanted, desperately, because sometimes the whispers….

Peggy let out a low whine and his head snapped up in time to see Bucky - the Soldier stand up from the chair.

“Soldier, what…?” Tony gaped. Peggy wiggled slightly, as if she wanted to rush up and greet Bucky, but was also doing her ‘guarding’ thing that she did when she was in an unsure situation, shoving herself between Tony and a threat.

The Soldier’s eyes flicked down to Peggy and Tony nervously grabbed at her, unable to stop the reaction, even when the Soldier looked back up. “Status?” the Soldier asked and Tony felt his jaw drop slightly.

“Soldier, did the Commander send you?” Tony asked.

The Soldier didn’t answer, just twitched his head to the side. “Do you need extraction?” the Soldier asked and Tony felt a hysterical laugh bubble in his chest.

“Oh, God, you just… you did, didn’t you? You went rogue to come check up on me? And no, I don’t need an extraction!” Tony retorted. The Soldier relaxed, while Tony wondered if this was his life now; if Bucky never came back, he’d have the Soldier just… showing up whenever he got… worried or something.

The Soldier shifted slightly and nodded. “Status?” the Soldier asked again.

“Getting better,” Tony answered and the Soldier gave another nod.

He was then up and out Tony’s back window, Peggy whining a bit more at that and Tony let out a choked laugh. “Oh, this is so fucked,” he muttered as he finished getting his little front door closed and began to take care of Peggy, who practically glued herself to his side as he did.

Probably, he should call Darcy or something. Let her know the Soldier had been here. Was, presumably, on his way back to the Tower.

Instead he crawled into his bed, letting Peggy under the covers with him, and buried his face into his pillow.

Even he wasn’t too sure if he was laughing or crying.


	12. Chapter 12

“Hey, are you busy? What am I talking about, of course you’re not,” Clint said, startling Steve where he was stretched out on Sam’s couch.

“Actually-” Steve started, irritated, but Clint just pinned him with an unimpressed look.

“Steve. You’re wearing like, three-day old pajamas. Get off your ass, shower, and then get dressed in adult clothes. I need your help with something.”

“With what?” Steve asked, frowning in concern as he sat up.

Clint flapped a hand at him. “I’ll explain on the way, just hurry up.”

Steve rushed through a shower, yanked on clean clothes, and met Clint with his hair still wet. Clint flew up from the couch, where he’d been idly flipping through a magazine, and grabbed Steve’s wallet, slamming it into his hand and dragging him out the door.

“Hurry up, or we’ll be too late.”

“Too late for what Clint?” Steve asked.

“I have this problem,” Clint said. “Phil won’t help me, he said it’s my own fault, and Natasha would probably just kill them which is… not really the solution we need here.”

“Clint, what happened?” Steve insisted. He could feel his pulse kick up, adrenaline starting in preparation for a fight or a mission. He was, really, all for it. For anything to get him out and away from his own thoughts and inaction.

Clint refused to explain anything else, just pulled him into a car and drove well across town.

They stopped in front of a nondescript building.

Steve followed Clint inside, prepared for anything.

Except a chaotic mass of noise and people. There was a small group over in the corner calling Clint’s name, a girl on her tip toes and waving her hand with a grin.

“Finally admitted you need reinforcements?” she teased.

“Whatever. I’d like to see you all kick _his_ ass.” Clint jerked a thumb at Steve, who must have looked very confused because the girl looked back and forth between them.

“Clint… you dummy did you even explain to him why he’s here?” Without waiting for an answer, she turned to Steve. “Clint bet that he could beat us. He hasn’t, and we told him we’d be nice and let him bring in some backup. This is the first time he’s taken us up on it.”

“Whatever,” Clint said dismissively. “Is everyone here?”

“Mostly. Charlie couldn’t make it. How many games you wanna do today?”

“Three. Usual deal?” Clint asked.

Her grin was wide and mischievous. “Yeah. I’m looking forward to another dinner courtesy of Clint Barton.” She walked off, her friends behind her, and Steve turned to Clint, arms crossed and glaring.

“Don’t look at me like that,” Clint whined. “I’ve bought them dinner like five times in the past two weeks. Do you know where they like to go eat? They like to make me take them to these ridiculously pricey hipster places. It’s horrible. I refuse to do it one more time.”

“What is this place?” Steve asked.

“Paintball! You’ll like it,” Clint promised. “Even Phil enjoys it. Well, enjoyed it. He can’t really… anyway, I figured with you on my team I can’t lose.”

“I thought it was something serious,” Steve said, annoyed. “I thought you were in _trouble_ Clint!”

“I am!” Clint insisted. “My reputation is at stake! And my bank account. Okay, not my bank account,” he admitted at the unimpressed look Steve gave him. “But you seriously need to help me out here.”

Steve sighed. “This is ridiculous.”

“So was the costume SHIELD tried to make me wear,” Clint grumbled, leading the way through the crowd of people. They found the group of… really, they were kids, a bunch of teenagers or young adults. How they knew Clint Steve had no idea.

Steve really didn’t want to know. A lot of Clint’s “I know these people because” stories were… well, Steve could understand why Phil was constantly rolling his eyes and rubbing his forehead.

“You’re going down this time,” Clint swore.

The girl snorted. “Not even this guy is gonna save you from another crippling defeat.”

“We’ll see about that.” Clint grinned. “C’mon Steve. We’ve got a bunch of kids to slaughter.”

“That’s not funny,” Steve tried to say, but one of the girl’s friends was loudly retorting, “If you old folks can move fast enough to do that, I’ll buy the next game!”

Steve paused, glanced at the kid, and then met Clint’s eyes.

Clint’s grin went downright wicked. “Ready?”

“Oh yeah.”

*~*~*

“I can’t believe they won,” Steve grumbled as he scrubbed a paint stained hand through his hair.

“I know. They’re horrible, I hate ‘em, this is so gonna bust our wallets. But at least we won the first game,” Clint responded with a grin and Steve glanced up in time to see Clint carefully slipping his hearing aids into place.

“Do they know?” Steve asked with a hand wave at his ears and Clint nodded.

“Yeah. Nadia, she’s got an older brother who is deaf, and there’s Charlie. He wasn’t here today, but he’s deaf. You want to know how I met these little punks?” Clint asked and Steve felt a part of him freeze at the casual nickname and the devil-may-care smile even though his face was, somehow, stained with paint.

They had been wearing protective gear, how could they be so coated in _paint_?

“I am sure I wouldn’t survive the first sentence,” Steve signed and Clint laughed, sharp and brilliant.

“I beat some guy who hussled ‘em in pool. Ah, nice bar fight,” Clint answered and Steve groan-laughed as he rubbed his forehead.

He knew it.

“Let’s go, old man. We got a horde of teenaged young adults to feed,” Clint stated with a prod of his foot against Steve’s calf and Steve groaned, but stood up.

“That’s your fault,” Steve stated and Clint grinned before he headed out to where the jeering kids awaited them.

*~*~*

No one had told Steve that Bucky - the Soldier - had snuck out of the Tower for a few days. JARVIS was still avoiding speaking to him unless he had to, Darcy was coolly professional, and Phil just looked disappointed most of the time.

That didn’t mean Steve didn’t _know_. He had his own ways of learning what was going on, of keeping track of his team, and maybe he hadn’t known right away but he’d known that the Soldier had left and returned, quietly.

The one that Steve had lost complete track of, and couldn’t find, was Tony.

But… well, Tony had always been good at disappearing if he didn’t want to be found, and with Rhodes glaring from Pepper’s side Steve knew better than to press.

At least, not right away. He waited. He waited for someone to tell him where Tony was. He waited for Tony to check in, at the very least. Steve waited, and waited, and asked JARVIS and was ignored.

Steve had a gut feeling though that the Soldier knew.

After a few more days passed and no one would tell him anything, and Pepper had primly offered some excuse that they both knew was a lie, Steve paid the Soldier a visit.

*~*~*

The Soldier was waiting for him when Steve arrived and, for a moment, Steve was unsure of what to do, before he steeled his spine. The Soldier responded minutely and watched Steve closely, loosening his muscles. “Do you know where Dr. Tony Stark is?” Steve asked.

For several long, tense moments the Soldier simply stared at him, and Steve had no idea if he was going to answer or simply stand there silently. Steve was _sure_ that the Soldier knew, that somehow the Soldier had found out what no one would tell Steve.

“Yes.” The Soldier shifted again, staring over Steve’s shoulder, something… settling in his expression, something Steve almost wanted to call stubborn.

Steve took a deep breath. He’d been right.

“Tell me where he is.”

This time, the Soldier didn’t answer.

“I need to know where he is,” Steve said, trying to not sound as pleading as he felt, to sound firm and commanding. It made him wince, because the words came out overly harsh, dangerous. It wasn’t how he’d wanted to sound, how he felt, but it came out wrong, like so many things seemed to these days.

“The Mechanic is not here.”

“I know where he’s not damn it!” Steve snapped, voice inching closer to a shout than he liked. He closed his eyes, taking several deep breaths. When he opened them again, the Soldier was watching him intently, but not as if he was primed for a fight.

“I need to know where he is, right now.” Steve sounded calmer, and he took several more measured breaths, pulling himself together.

“He is not at the office.”

Steve narrowed his eyes. “Yeah, I know. He’s not here, and he’s not at the office, and he’s not in his workshop-”

“He is not in the building,” the Soldier added.

Steve gave him an irritated look. If it’d been Bucky - not the Soldier - he would have told him to stop being a smartass.

“Yeah. I know that.”

The Soldier tilted his head a bit, almost thoughtfully, then, “He is not on the West Coast.”

Steve took a very deep breath. “Stop playing games with me, you goddamn jerk.”

The Soldier shrugged and looked over Steve’s shoulder again.

Steve put his hands on his hips, staring at the floor and just - breathing, carefully and trying to push aside all the painful emotions he was feeling, about Tony, about Bucky, about _everything_ happening the past several weeks. He pushed it aside, because he didn’t want to lose it again. He couldn’t. He’d vent it all out, later, on the punching bags in the gym.

“Is he at least okay?” he whispered.

“...His status report was ‘getting better’.” When Steve looked up, the Soldier looked away again, lips pressed tight. “He did not require extraction.”

“Did he give you an ETA?” Steve asked.

“No,” the Soldier answered and rolled his shoulders slightly. “If he has not returned in a month, I shall be inquiring if he’s in need of extraction again,” he added and Steve stared at him.

“You’ll just walk out again?” Steve asked.

The Soldier didn’t respond and Steve sighed. “If you see him before me, could you tell him… tell him I would like to talk to him, on his terms?” Steve questioned.

The stare that the Soldier pinned on him was honestly just a little terrifying. It was intense and suspicious, making Steve straighten and want to look serious… but he needed to show he wasn’t… wasn’t going to scare Tony off again.

“I will,” the Soldier said, and Steve started to relax until he added, “If his status will not be harmed by the information.”

Steve stared and the look he got back was almost challenging.

Instead of defending himself - and if doing so would be ineffective on anyone, it would be the Soldier - Steve slowly nodded.

“Thank you,” he said, and turned to leave.

“He isn’t on any Stark Industries property,” the Soldier called after him. Steve glanced over his shoulder. “Or anywhere affiliated with Stark Industries.”

“Okay,” Steve said quietly. He hesitated before adding, “I appreciate this. Your help.”

The Soldier shrugged, refusing to look at him, and so Steve left. He didn’t know if it was because the Soldier was uncomfortable with Steve there or another reason, but he didn’t want to push it.

Plus, he wasn’t sure how long he had until JARVIS tattled to Phil or Darcy. He hadn’t been explicitly told not to bother the Soldier about Tony, but technically no one was supposed to go to Bucky’s floor without informing Phil or Darcy about it.

Steve hadn’t even taken two steps away from the elevator before Darcy was suddenly there, looking like a tigress bearing down on someone threatening her cubs. “Steve, you look like you aren’t busy enough! Paperwork, I hear, is good for the soul,” she stated, latching onto his arm and dragging him down the hall, toward the elevator that would take him to the ground floor.

Steve went with her and it was only after she had joined him the backseat of the car that seemed to be headed for Tony’s Private Spy Business Offices that Steve realized he should have probably put up a bit more of a fight.

*~*~*

Natasha watched as Darcy carefully settled Marie into her crib, watching as Darcy carefully flicked on the baby monitor before she practically _ran_ for the door, quietly shutting it behind her. “Please tell me you have the baby monitor,” Darcy whispered and Natasha held it up, showing that it was glowing green.

She sighed in relief and walked over to Natasha, grinning as she clambered into Natasha’s lap. “We’ve got four hours, tops. What do you say to a nap?” she asked brightly.

Natasha wrapped her arms around Darcy and sighed. “Why, if you are angry at Steve, do you keep making sure that he has baked goods and other food wherever he is?” Natasha asked and Darcy groaned, pressing her forehead against Natasha’s shoulder.

“Because… of reasons,” Darcy grumbled and shifted to slide out of Natasha’s lap, Natasha letting her go.

“Reasons?” Natasha questioned.

“I don’t want to be mad at Steve. I know something has to be going on in that stupid blond head of his that’s making him act like a needle head. But Tony hasn’t even asked about him,” Darcy stated with a low sigh, heading to the couch to slump.

“I don’t want to be mad, but…. Tony isn’t asking about him. Not once,” she whispered.

“I don’t want to be mad but if I’m not will I try to talk Tony into taking him back?” she mumbled and then flopped back with a whine.

Natasha nodded and then walked over before she, carefully lay on top of Darcy, ignoring her wife’s grumbling as she began to rethink her plan.

Time to be more proactive, it seemed.

*~*~*

The paperwork never seemed to end. Every time Steve thought he’d finally started to get somewhere, more would just… flood to him, often for the most random, inconsequential things. The only time he wasn’t doing paperwork, he was sleeping; to get the stacks done, he’d eat as he did them, in the vain hope that he’d actually get ahead. This couldn’t just be Darcy’s doing. Everyone knew that paperwork was Phil’s favorite method of torture and punishment. They were working against him, together.

One moment Steve was squinting at the - at this point - blurring text of the document in front of him… and the next Natasha was behind him, pushing him forward.

“Come on, quick. We only have a few minutes that JARVIS doesn’t have access to these cameras, and he’ll try to figure out the problem himself before reporting it to Darcy.”

“What-”

“Move, damn it,” Natasha hissed.

Steve booked it.

They were just escaping out of the building when Clint slid into place on Steve’s other side, glancing nervously over his shoulder.

“She on to us?” Natasha asked.

“She’s suspicious, but I don’t think she knows what we did. Yet.” Clint answered as he waved to his ears.

“Good,” Natasha signed, not slowing down even slightly, and shoved Steve towards a sleek, discreet car waiting at a parking meter.

Steve slid in the passenger seat, glancing between Clint and Natasha as she pulled into traffic without seeming to even look.

“Did you just… break me out of paperwork hell?”

“Yep,” Clint said, _still_ glancing repeatedly behind them like he expected to be chased by someone. “I’ve been there. I know that pain.”

“Thanks,” Steve said emphatically. “I never thought I’d see the sun again.” He was only slightly joking, and he was sure that was clear to them.

“If she had her way, you probably wouldn’t have,” Natasha muttered, taking a sharp turn.

Steve swallowed, joining Clint in glancing behind them for a tail.

Natasha twitched when her phone went off, a happy cheerful tune. The look she gave her phone, which was attached to the dashboard, was one of pure horror, and Steve joined when he saw a smiling picture of Darcy on the screen.

“Please, for the love of God, answer Nat. It’ll be worse if we don’t. Like a Howler,” Clint whimpered.

“Answer,” Natasha stated.

 _“NATASHA ROMANOV WHERE ARE YOU TAKING MY PRISONER?”_ Darcy shouted through the speakers and Clint let out a low sound of fear while Steve pulled away.

Natasha gripped the steering wheel tightly. “You put him in paperwork hell,” Natasha argued.

 _“He had too much time on his hands!”_ Darcy snapped back.

“He was asking about Tony! This is not a crime!”

 _“To me it is! Bring him back_ now _,”_ Darcy demanded.

“No,” Natasha argued and there was a low growl from the phone.

 _“No baked goods for a week. And tell Clint he is a dead man unless Phil vouches for him when I bring up the jamming device he put in the vents, not to mention_ stealing _my StarkPad!_ _If Phil vouches for him, however, he will_ beg _for paperwork hell when I am through with him!”_ Darcy snarled and she disconnected the phone call.

“That could have been worse,” Clint stated and Natasha didn’t even look back as she reached back to punch Clint, hard.

“Ow, Nat!” Clint whined, leaning away from her. “I’m going to suffer enough without you breaking my arm!”

“Child,” she muttered.

*~*~*

Pepper grinned at the footage JARVIS showed her, gesturing for Rhodey to come over when he walked into her office for lunch.

He leaned one hand on the desk, the other on the back of her chair, and grinned widely as JARVIS obligingly started it over.

“What did he do to get put in paperwork hell suddenly?”

“He was asking Bucky about Tony,” Pepper said. “Phil told me he didn’t break orders - Bucky didn’t tell Steve where Tony is or why he’s gone,” she added reassuringly.

Rhodey hummed, not sounding all that reassured. He straightened, allowing Pepper to stand and grab her purse. They walked out, talking about business things - contracts with the military, how the Iron Patriot armor was working, when would be a good time to get the next upgrade taken care of - until they were in the car.

Pepper sighed heavily, kicking her heels off and slouching back. “Heard from Tony lately?” she asked.

Rhodey shook his head. “No. Last time I did, he… hell, I’m not sure, Pepper. He sounded tired, but that could be good or bad.”

“He wasn’t trying to fake you out though,” Pepper pointed out. “So it could be worse.”

Rhodey snorted in agreement, then added, “Maybe we should drop by - visit, you know?”

Pepper pulled out her StarkPhone, looking through her calendar and chewing her lip in thought. “I can postpone the meeting on Sunday. It’s with R&D, they love it when I postpone meetings.”

Grinning, Rhodey said, “No wonder Tony gets along with them so well.”

Pepper grinned at him, shooting off an email, and then putting her phone back in her purse. “Surprise him?”

“Yeah. I’ll call ahead so they know we’re coming.”

*~*~*

Steve went back to hiding out at Sam’s place, just until he was sure Darcy wouldn’t throw him right back into paperwork hell.

He still had no idea where Tony was, but he was thinking… he was thinking that maybe, that was a sign of how much he needed to fix still. Tony wouldn’t hide from him for this long over a fight. Not unless… not unless he was, maybe, actually afraid of Steve.

Because Steve kept losing his temper, badly.

Steve had never meant for things to get this bad between them. Hadn’t been able to imagine it being a possibility. After everything, after working so hard to gain Tony’s trust and build up their relationship to something that had been solid and steady, Steve hadn’t thought that he would be the one to punch a hole through that support. He hadn’t thought he’d become someone Tony couldn’t trust anymore, someone that let his problems become something that hurt those he loved.

“Hey, Sam?” he asked, pausing in the kitchen doorway, watching as Sam fished a jug of juice out of the fridge.

“What’s up?”

“...Can I have that number now?”

Sam looked at him, no surprise on his face, just consideration. “What changed your mind?”

Steve glanced down, shoving his hands in his pockets. “I uh… realized that if… if I don’t do something about this now it might….” He looked up. “I don’t want this to ruin my relationship, Sam. I don’t want Tony to be scared of me hurting him. I don’t want to be scared of hurting someone.”

Sam reached out and pulled a card off of the fridge, holding it out for Steve to take.

“Nothing to be ashamed of,” he said quietly. “So you need some help. They’ll give it to you.”

Steve stared at the card, nodding.

_Nadia Pearson, Psychologist._


	13. Chapter 13

_“Tony, you’re needed at the front office.”_

Tony glared up at the PA system, even as the young girl (she couldn’t be 18, but she swore she was) Linda cackled. “Ooooooh, _Tony_ , you’re in _trou_ ble,” she jeered.

“I am not in trouble Valley Girl,” he retorted and Linda batted her eyes.

“Like, totally,” she retorted and then giggled before she settled her goggles back over her eyes.

“Remember gloves!” Tony shouted at her as he left the mechanic workshop, ignoring her shout of, “Hypocrite!” following after him.

Peggy, who was napping against the fence of the closest dog pen, twitched when Tony whistled. “Peggy?” he called and she surged to her paws, shaking all over.

He quickly collected her, even as he was paged again. “I’m coming!” he shouted at the PA system, though he knew they wouldn’t hear him, and began to walk towards the front office.

*~*~*

“Tony!” Pepper greeted and Tony smiled, immediately walking forward to wrap his arms tightly around her.

“Pep,” he responded.

“What, no love for me?” Rhodey asked.

“Awww, honey bear,” Tony retorted and carefully released Pepper to cross to Rhodey and hug him, who hugged back tightly as Tony buried his face into Rhodey’s neck. He took a deep, shuddering breath before he stepped back again, glad that he hadn’t started crying or something. Pepper would get that… that face, that ‘you poor thing’ face. Which led to more hugs and those were nice.

But Tony didn’t want to, to break down. Not here, not now.

It was so good to see them. A month had never seemed so long, and he couldn’t remember the last time he’d been away from… basically anyone at the Tower for that long.

Pepper straightened up, having crouched down to pet Peggy. Almost immediately Peggy turned to Rhodey, pressing into him hard enough to make him take a step back. Tony smiled at that, watching as Rhodey laughed and reached down.

“We brought you take-out,” Pepper said, holding up a bag from his favorite Chinese place. Tony made impatient grabbing motions, taking the bag and immediately withdrawing the cookie.

“You’re supposed to save those for the end,” Rhodey teased. Tony threw the wrapper at him.

They went somewhere that was mostly away from others, settling down at an outside table and spreading out the food. Tony stole some of Pepper’s, like he always did, and failed to fend off Rhodey for long from his.

It was nice. Tony leaned slightly into Pepper, and she smiled over at him, reaching over to squeeze his hand.

“How are you doing?” she asked. It was in the gentle but serious tone she always used when she knew Tony wasn’t okay, but wanted him to tell her about it. He looked down, fiddling with the chopsticks and shrugged.

“Better. I’m… doing better, I guess.”

“But you’re not ready to leave yet,” Rhodey said. Tony glanced up, but Rhodey looked so calm, like this was expected and okay and…

“No. I don’t… think it’ll be a… short stay,” he admitted.

And that wasn’t a _failure_ on his part, he reminded himself. Needing to take time, to be here longer than he had wanted or expected coming in… that was _okay_.

There were people who had been here for a year and still needed to be here. He was only here for a month and _he was okay_. Peggy let out a low whine and suddenly she was in his face, paws scrabbling at his lap and licking his face. “Oh, Peggy,” he protested as he pulled his head away slightly.

Peggy made a happy grumble noise and she was back on the ground, even as Tony picked up napkins to rub his face clean of dog slobber.

“I smell like dog breath,” he complained.

“You’re fine, Tony,” Pepper said with a warm smile. She reached out, squeezing his hand again. “But if it really bothers you I think I have some lotion in my purse.”

He eyed her bag, almost wanting to ask which lotion of hers it was - if it was the one she’d started wearing shortly after they started dating, which had, admittedly, been his favorite over all the years he’d known her - but instead just held out a hand.

She laughed, digging around to pull out a small bottle (Tony wasn’t sure what to think when it _was_ that lotion, and ignored the fact that it made his throat tight). She didn’t squeeze it into his hand, instead into her own, spreading it between her fingers and then gently rubbing it in on his cheeks, jaw, and down his neck.

“Better?” she asked, with a teasing smile at the edges of her lips.

Tony nodded quietly.

Rhodey didn’t say anything until Pepper had gone to throw their trash away, and then he leaned forward across the table. “You know we’re both proud of you, right? For taking this step, for the effort you’re making? This isn’t easy, I can’t even imagine just how hard it must be, but… I’m proud of you, Tony.”

“You’re getting mushy on me,” Tony protested, looking away. “How’s things at the Tower?” he asked as Pepper came back, taking her seat next to Tony again. Rhodey gave him a look, not at all fooled by the change in subject.

“It seems to be going well,” Pepper answered calmly.

“Darcy and Phil seem to be at odds concerning the Soldier, and it shows in the fact the Soldier has shown a preference to working with Darcy, but he still listens to Phil. It is just obviously a preference,” Rhodey stated.

“Bucky connected with her when he was recovering, before,” Tony said quietly. “Makes sense, really, that he does now, I guess.”

Pepper reached over for his hand, giving it a squeeze a she smiled at him. “They’re looking after him, and Rhodey and I are doing what we can, too.” She hesitated, before saying, “I haven’t seen him personally - but if there’s something you want me to do…?”

Tony opened his mouth and froze, mind racing. “Uh, can you… ask how the arm is doing? And… uh, just… see how he is?”

“Sure Tony,” Pepper said softly. “I’ll ask him for you.”

He didn’t ask about Steve, and they didn’t really mention him beyond “There was a small mission, they were gone and back in the same day with no injuries.” He heard about how Bruce had made dinner a few nights ago - Rhodey was delighted with Bruce’s cooking - and about how big Marie was getting.

Tony wished he could see it in person. Pepper showed him a few videos on her phone and he had seen her during his talks with Darcy, but it wasn’t the same.

He buried his fingers in Peggy’s fur when they left, the smell of Pepper’s perfume in his nose. He had to crouch and curl his arms around her for a few minutes.

“Just us again,” he breathed.

Probably better being lonely here than freaking out in the Tower, though.

*~*~*

Steve sat in the car, hands tight on the wheel, and tried to remind himself of why he’d wanted to do this. He’d been fine, he thought, until he’d arrived outside the building and found his heart racing and it hard to leave the car.

He nearly jumped out of his skin when his cell phone rang and he hesitated before he picked up, noting that the psychiatrist's number and name, Nadia Pearson, was on the screen. He answered it with a gentle, “Hello?”

“Hello Mr. Rogers, or would you prefer Steve?” Dr. Pearson responded.

“Steve, please,” he responded.

“All right Steve. I’ve sort-of noticed you are in the parking lot for about five minutes. Now, it is okay if you are nervous, but wouldn’t you rather at least panic inside instead of in the car? They’re basically ovens you know. I once did an experiment in school. I baked biscuits once,” Dr. Pearson responded.

“You baked biscuits in your car?” Steve questioned.

“I never said it was my car. I do not recall saying it was my car. But I baked biscuits in _a_ car,” Dr. Pearson stated.

Steve pulled the phone away to stare it and then slowly lifted it up to his ear. “Why did you bake biscuits in a car that wasn’t yours?” Steve questioned.

“In my defense he was a bully and deserved it. But I was still in the wrong. For baking biscuits in his car and then… maybe… not entirely _baking_ them so much as letting the canisters _explode_ in his car, but still. I had to clean out his car,” she stated and Steve wondered if Sam hadn’t planned this a bit more than he expected.

“Please come inside? It is cooler. And I have biscuits,” she continued and Steve snorted before he nodded.

“Okay,” he answered and with a quick good-bye, hung up.

He got out of the car and locked it behind him, heading for the front of the building where a brown-skinned woman with straight black hair was waiting for him, wearing warm, cheerful, colors. “Hello Steve. I’m Dr. Nadia Pearson. I accept Doc, Nadia, Dr. Pearson, or Dr. Nadia in that stead. Whichever makes you feel more at ease,” she greeted holding her hand out to him.

Steve took it. “All right Dr. Nadia,” he answered and she gave a smile and a nod.

“Right this way Steve. Do you want tea and biscuits or coffee and biscuits?” she asked.

“Coffee,” Steve answered and Nadia gave him a warm smile.

“Coffee it is then,” she answered as she opened the door for him, showing him into the homiest psychiatrist's office Steve had ever laid eyes on, a single cup coffee and tea maker already going.

“Please, have a seat and then, we’ll get started,” Nadia stated and Steve nodded, taking a seat as Nadia shut the door against the outside world.

*~*~*

The Soldier hadn’t seen Ms. Potts since he had been introduced to her, so it was unusual to have the voice in the ceiling announce she was coming to see him.

He shifted when she walked out of the elevator, heels making soft clicking sounds on the floor. Her smile was careful, soft. “Hello,” she said. “I didn’t interrupt anything did I? I know you have a schedule.”

He shook his head. He had been eating, and hearing that she was coming by he’d finished quickly.

Nodding, Ms. Potts said, “I went to see Dr. Stark recently. He asked for me to make sure that your arm is doing okay.”

“It is functioning,” he reported. She had seen the Mechanic? She knew, then.

“What is the Mechanic’s ETA?” he requested.

Her smile was sad. “Unfortunately, it seems he’ll be staying longer than originally expected. He really wants to get better this time, he’s trying to do it right, and that means, sadly, that he’ll need to stay at the center for a while longer.”

“How longer?” he asked, a sort of… dread curled in his stomach.

He didn’t like the idea of the Mechanic being in a _center_.

“There’s no telling, I’m sorry,” she said. She really did sound apologetic. “Maybe a few more months?”

_Months_.

He nodded to acknowledge what Ms. Potts had said.

_Months_.

She gave him a thoughtful, considering look. “He was asking about you, about how you were doing. He cares, you know. I think he feels guilty that he’s not here to help you.”

The Soldier frowned slightly.

Why would the Mechanic feel guilty?

“The Mechanic is in need of repairs?” he questioned.

Ms. Potts paused and then sighed. “It is hard to explain. In a manner of speaking, yes, he does. But it isn’t like he’s broken. There’s just a part of him that is sick and he’s… he’s making it better. But it isn’t a… sickness like an illness, it is… a different type of sickness. Not viral, or bacterial, or even terminal,” she explained and the Soldier tilted his head slightly.

He would ask the Commander to explain.

She would do so and often with the assistance of the Voice.

Or he could take a Reconnaissance to where the Mechanic was.

He would do that, and then speak with the Commander, once he was reassured the the Mechanic wasn’t going to be… replaced any time soon.

*~*~*

Steve got back from another paintball game with Clint, only to find Natasha stretched out on Sam’s couch, flipping through a magazine and chewing bubblegum.

She probably thought it was funny to blow a bubble until it popped when Steve walked in, still casually flipping pages.

After a moment, Steve walked past her to the hall bathroom, wetting a towel and running it over his face and arms. He thought about making Natasha wait while he took a shower. He was curious why she was there, though.

Of course, he was also covered in sweat and paint.

Poking his head back into the living room, he called, “Let me shower real fast.”

She popped another bubble. “Ten minutes, Rogers.”

Nine minutes later, Steve fell onto the other end of the couch, hair still dripping the occasional drop down the back of his neck. Natasha shifted to drop her feet in his lap and for some reason turned the magazine upside down, brows furrowed.

“Did Sam give you a key?” Steve asked curiously.

Natasha smiled slyly instead of answering. Steve decided to mention to Sam that Nat had been here waiting on the couch, just in case she’d broken in. There was nothing Sam or Steve could do to stop her - and no reason to, really, except for general reasons of privacy - but Sam should know either way.

Steve would just also make sure no prank wars were started over it.

Finally she set aside the magazine and sat up, tucking her feet under Steve’s thigh and folding her arms on top of her knees.

“Clint said that he’s recruited you against those kids he’s fond of buying food.”

“Are you saying Clint loses on purpose?” Steve asked, stretching his feet out in front of him.

“I’m saying that I find it hard to believe that Clint isn’t a better shot at paintball of all things, and that he has a habit of adopting strangers and lost people.” Her toes nudged him, making Steve wonder if it was pointed or just an unconscious gesture. With Natasha, he was inclined to think the former.

“It’s how he recruited me,” Natasha stated. She watched him for a moment, and Steve braced himself for whatever would come next.

“How’re you enjoying freedom from paperwork hell?”

Steve told himself he shouldn’t relax, that Natasha was not here just to check in on him over _that_ , but found himself relieved anyway. “Trying to find ways to keep busy,” he admitted. “It was good to go out for that mission the other week even if it was only a day.”

Natasha hummed. “Throwing yourself back into things again?”

“Natasha,” Steve said quietly.

She shrugged, smiling a little. “Just asking. We worry about you, Steve, especially when you tend to do reckless stunts instead of letting people help. I’m not going to tell Tony or Bucky when they’re back that you got yourself killed from something stupid.”

“Bucky wouldn’t be surprised,” Steve said.

“Bucky would have Tony make a time machine just to go back and kick your dumb ass,” Natasha countered. It made Steve smile, a happier thought about those two than the ones that he’d had for the last few months.

“I suppose there’s no reason to worry as much now, though, since you actually went to your appointment the other day,” she added.

And there it was, Steve thought. He gently pushed her feet out from his thigh, watching as she crossed her legs and rested her elbows on her knees, hands folded under her chin and eyes focused on him when he turned to face her. She looked open in a way that Natasha rarely let herself be.

“Did it go well?”

“I think so,” Steve said slowly, nodding. “It was… mostly just seeing if the doctor fit, what… just general things.” He shrugged, a little uncomfortable. “I don’t want to really get into it, Nat.”

“Okay,” she said easily. In a quick change of subject, Natasha said, “I think next time you go with Clint, you should be a double agent. Change sides in the middle and shoot him for those kids.”

“Why?” Steve asked, raising a brow. He was relieved that she hadn’t pressed, amused by her change of subject.

“Because I think the look on his face when Captain America betrays him will be hilarious, and I plan on somehow getting footage of it.”

“You could always come with us,” Steve said.

Natasha gave a prim sniff and disdainful look. “Even if all of you worked together, I’d wipe the floor with you. I do not want to deal with whiney teenagers and a pouting Clint and _your_ sad face.”

Steve laughed.

*~*~*

“Holy fucking - you need to stop doing that,” Tony breathed, heart racing.

The Soldier was sitting in his room again, waiting. Peggy pushed forward from Tony’s side, wiggling and whining, excited and confused.

Tony kept an eye on the Soldier, who gave Peggy a curious glance, but made no move to touch her, whether it was in a friendly manner or hostile one. Deciding it was probably best not to _test_ that, Tony kept a hold on her collar.

“Peggy, sit,” he said quietly.

She did, panting a bit, on top of his feet. He shifted them out from under her, which left her shifting _into_ him.

Tony gave her an exasperated look, not that it would _do_ anything.

“Ms. Potts said your ETA was extended. Do you require extraction?”

“That again?” Tony muttered. Sighing, he scrubbed a hand over his face. “Look, I’m not being kept here against my will. I _sent myself_ here. I fucked up and I - whoa, hey, personal space,” Tony said, voice going squeaky.

The Soldier had come across the room and right in front of Tony, quickly, a frown on his face.

He stared at Tony’s face, like he was looking for some missing detail, head cocked slightly to the side. “Ms. Potts said that you… were sick.”

Tony licked his lips. “That’s… yeah. Sure. That works.”

His answer didn’t seem to satisfy the Soldier. His eyes narrowed, lips thinned.

Sighing, Tony rubbed a hand over his face. “I… Jesus, how the fuck to explain this to you? I… I always want something, something that’s _bad_ for me. I - I crave it, even when I _know_ I shouldn’t have it, and then I have too much of it, and - and I still want it, even when I know it makes things worse, ruins everything, I keep fucking up again and again and-”

“They won’t….” The Soldier looked _worried_ , hand on Tony’s shoulder. He glanced around uneasily, before focusing on Tony again.

“Won’t what?” Tony asked quietly.

“Wipe you,” the Soldier whispered.

“ _No,_ ” Tony said quickly, grabbing the Soldier’s wrist and squeezing. “Bu- Soldier, look at me. No. That’s not - _no one_ is going to do that, okay? _Nothing_ they do here hurts me. They - they help me figure out how to, to repair myself. They’re… they’re helping me. I promise.”

“Your ETA keeps changing,” he accused.

“Because of me. Because I’m not ready yet. I don’t think - if I left now, I’d just wind up back where I started sooner or later, and I want to be better. I want to be worth - I want to do better,” Tony repeated.

Slowly, the Soldier nodded. “You will alert me if this changes.”

“If I need help getting out, you’ll be the first I tell,” Tony said dryly. “Since you keep breaking in and out so easily.”

The Soldier gave another nod, turning to leave. He paused before vanishing out the window, glancing at Tony thoughtfully. Tony waited, but whatever he was thinking, he didn’t know, because the Soldier turned back around and was out the window and gone.

“Jesus,” Tony muttered, rubbing his face, stumbling forward to collapse face first into bed. “I’m exhausted, Peggy, we’re gonna skip the whole pajamas thing tonight okay?” She hopped up onto the bed beside him. “Thought you’d agree it’s a good idea,” he yawned, curling an arm around her.

*~*~*

Steve sighed as he opened up Sam’s front door, having come from another appointment with Dr. Nadia.

They had hit it off rather well and he enjoyed talking with her. She was happy to let him take it at his own pace and today had been a hard session. He felt as if a century’s worth of….something been wrung out of him, like water wrung from a rag.

He was too tired to even be frustrated with the front door when it jammed a little, and he stepped inside, dropping his bag with his art supplies next to the shoe rack. He was about to take off his shoes when he heard Sam shout, “Close the front door!”

His head snapped up in surprise, used to coming back from his sessions with Dr. Nadia to an empty house.

He slowly did as Sam told him to do, even as Sam leaned out to eye him. “So, today, a veteran mom brought her kid and he threw juice all over me,” he stated and Steve raised an eyebrow.

“A kid threw juice all over you?” Steve asked as he began to take off his shoes and put them on his spot on the shoe rack.

“Yeah. So you have to wait for the shower,” Sam stated and he was gone.

Steve frowned slightly before he shrugged and headed to the couch, practically falling down onto it.

He slowly slumped over until he found himself cradled in between the arm and back of the couch, his head pillowed more by his shoulder than the couch.

He could hear the shower running and he didn’t bother to shift until he heard the shower turn off. He slowly worked on sitting up and he let his head thunk against the back of the couch. He wasn’t sure how long he stared at the ceiling, trying to sort out the aftereffects when he felt a plate nudge against his shoulder.

He looked up and blinked in surprise to find that Sam had made a plate of peanut butter and jelly sandwiches. “Don’t even think of trying to tell me you aren’t hungry,” Sam warned.

Steve chuckled and slowly sat up more, surprised to see two huge glasses of milk sitting on the coffee table and Sam turned on the TV, letting the plate sit between them. Steve took a sandwich and began to eat, Sam only starting to eat when Steve himself was on his second sandwich.

“Thanks,” Steve stated.

“No problem,” Sam responded as they watched some musical on the TV.

When the movie was over (and the lady who had tried to steal the other lady’s voice had gotten her just desserts), Steve looked over at Sam. “Sam?” he questioned.

“Yeah?” Sam responded.

“Thank you,” he stated and Sam grinned, reaching out to grab his shoulder, giving him a small shake.

“You’re welcome Steve,” Sam answered and then he stood up.

“Now, I took an extra-long lunch, so I’ll be back late. Don’t wait up,” he stated and headed for the door, waving and then he was gone.

Steve shook his head slightly and then began to clean up their lunch, the movie restarting in the background.

*~*~*

“Yo,” Linda greeted and Tony looked up from his book in the common library, surprised when she flopped into a chair next to his, her shadow keeping out of sight.

The shadow was one of the reasons Tony suspected she wasn’t 18. “So, um… I’ve been cleared for the world again,” she stated and Tony blinked before he smiled.

“Congrats,” he answered.

“Yeah, um… I was here for illegal drugs and alcohol,” she stated suddenly and Tony stared at her, noticing the way she was fiddling with her shirt.

“All voluntary, I wasn’t arrested, something like that. But… I figured you should know,” Linda answered as she reached over to pet Peggy, who leaned into the scratches happily.

“Why?” he asked softly.

“They said it was the last thing, sharing. And you never acted like I was going to break and you were fun, so yeah. That and I’m missing my mom, so… well, there is that,” she answered and Tony smiled a bit.

“Well, head home, enjoy life, don’t take any more drugs and save the drinking till it is legal,” Tony answered and she laughed, standing up.

“I’ll like, totally do that,” Linda said in her Valley Girl voice and Tony chuckled.

“Bye Tony,” Linda stated and walked out, her shadow following shortly after.

“Bye Linda,” Tony answered quietly and went back to his book.

He was glad for her - but that was just one less person for him to talk to here.

*~*~*

Steve took a steadying breath before knocking on the door, waiting to be told to enter. When he was, he stepped in and closed the door behind himself, before looking up at Darcy.

“I wanted to apologize to you,” he said, finding himself falling into parade rest. “I know I’ve been making things harder for you - I didn’t mean to do that. I guess I’ve just…” He shifted. “I’ve not been handling this well. I lashed out, and you’ve been trying to minimize that damage.”

“I’m not really the person you need to be apologizing to,” she said pointedly.

“I know I need to talk to him, and I will apologize,” Steve said. “But you’ve got a baby, and you’ve been running things here, and you’ve been trying to help Tony. You’ve got a lot on your plate, you didn’t need me making things even harder.”

Slowly, Darcy nodded. “Okay. Apology accepted.”

Steve nodded, turning to leave.

“He slipped out to see Tony again, you know.”

He paused, hand on the door knob. Slowly, Steve looked over his shoulder at her, swallowing. “How is he?”

Darcy looked thoughtful. “There’s not a lot I can say, yet. But he’s safe. Pepper, Rhodey, and I are keeping an eye out for him.”

“Okay,” Steve said hoarsely. “When… is he going to be back?”

“I don’t know.” She sounded apologetic. “He’s not going to lock you out forever, Steve. Just give him time.”

“I know - I’m trying. I just… miss him,” he admitted.

He walked out before she could respond, though it didn’t look like she really knew what to say. He got in the elevator, hesitating before pressing the button for their floor - where he hadn’t been since….

It was quiet and kind of cold, empty and too still.

He trudged into their room, climbing into the bed and pulling one of the pillows into his chest.

He missed them. He missed them so much.

Steve buried his face in the pillow and told himself that only JARVIS would see if he cried, and he probably hadn’t pissed the AI off _that_ much, yet.

He just… he missed his boyfriends, he missed Bucky and he missed Tony. He’d been so angry and frustrated, and scared, for so long, but now he was just… tired and lonely and what his ma had always called heartsore.


	14. Chapter 14

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry there was no update last week! RL got to both of us and we decided we wouldn't be able to give the chapter the attention it deserved. We've got plenty of work to do on the next chapter, too, so we'll get started on that right away.   
> For now, enjoy this chapter!

“Hello my little star,” Natasha greeted Marie softly in Russian as she carefully lifted the quietly fussing baby out of her crib.

She was drooling madly and chewing on her fist and Natasha made a soothing noise. “Yes, my little star, I know, I know, it hurts, getting your first tooth,” she soothed softly and she leaned forward, nuzzling her nose against Marie’s which had her letting out a whining giggle.

“Let’s get you your frozen teething ring. It is nicer than your fist anyway,” Natasha continued as she carefully cradled Marie against her shoulder, feeling her lift her head and move.

Natasha resisted the urge to sigh. It seemed like only yesterday that they had to carry her everywhere, that she couldn’t even babble, and was not starting to get into a truly epic wail of pain going. Natasha murmured at her in Russian as she walked to their freezer, fishing out the teething ring. She carefully pulled Marie’s fist free from her mouth and gave her the teething ring instead. Marie made a sound that may have been happy and grabbed at the teething ring.

Natasha smiled and carefully shifted Marie so she was cradled in her arms more like a newborn, Marie clutching at the teething ring like a lifeline as she gnawed at it.

Natasha smiled and carefully sat down on one of the counter chairs. “Yeah, that woke you up, huh? Well don’t worry, Mama will be up soon and you’ll get breakfast,” Natasha soothed as she ran a finger along Marie’s cheek.

She didn’t even release the teething ring.

“If Darcy wouldn’t kill me, I would totally just rub some low content alcohol onto her gums,” Clint stated and Natasha snorted.

“She wants to save that for right before she goes to bed, but no using the gel. She’s found it doesn’t work well, but the teething ring seems fine. But yes, she would,” Natasha answered, not even twitching when Clint reached forward with one of the baby face towels to wipe the drool off of Marie’s face.

“Awww, look at my little niece. Who is an adorable little girl? You’re an adorable little girl!” Clint cooed and Natasha rolled her eyes, even as she smiled at Clint babbling at Marie, right up until she bopped him on the nose.

“Hey!” he whined.

“Make pancakes paternal genetic donor,” Darcy demanded as she entered the kitchen, even as Clint whined, but headed off to obey.

“How did he get on our floor?” Darcy demanded quietly.

“The vents,” Natasha responded and Darcy made a face at Marie, which had her giggle.

“Well, so long as he makes pancakes, I won’t get too mad,” Darcy responded and Clint saluted with a spatula as he walked past.

“Phil’s going to be following him soon,” Natasha stated.

“Yeah, and then I get to tell him Bucky snuck out to visit Tony again,” Darcy stated.

“Again?” Natasha and Clint both asked in stereo.

“Oh, I didn’t tell you about that? Whoops, baby brain,” Darcy responded in a far too innocent tone.

“Darcy,” Natasha warned.

Darcy shrugged, looking at Marie and tickling her tummy with a finger. “Oh, it was just after he left on his current trip. He was worried, he snuck out unarmed. It wasn’t a big deal.”

“Not a big deal? The _Soldier_ can break in and out of the building without us noticing!” Clint said, waving the spatula in the air dramatically. “And he has - twice! That _we know of."_

“Unless he’s figured out a way around JARVIS, that means JARVIS is letting him,” Natasha said. “Shouldn’t that be worrying?”

“No, it shouldn’t,” Darcy disagreed. “Nat, this is JARVIS. He’s not Skynet.”

Natasha looked down at Marie. “Your mother is going to give me grey hairs.” Clint muttered an agreement, moving around their kitchen and shooting Darcy the occasional look.

Clint thought Darcy was hiding something more, and Natasha… well, agreed. But she wasn’t going to press. If it was something they needed to know, Darcy would at least hint at it for Natasha.

None of them said anything about it when Phil did, as predicted, join them. He cooed at Marie for a bit, sipping his coffee with his free hand when she grabbed his finger tightly. Clint platted pancakes and sat down after putting them on the table.

Darcy waited until Phil was halfway through his before saying, “So, Bucky decided to go walkabout again.”

Phil nearly choked on his coffee. “He what?” Phil asked.

“Bucky’s been taking walkabouts to check on Tony. This is the second one,” Darcy explained as Marie began to fuss.

Natasha didn’t hesitate to pass her over and Darcy helped Marie start her own breakfast, hissing a bit when the teething ring was dropped against bare skin, before she threw a lightweight blanket over her shoulder to hide Marie from view. “To check on Tony?” Phil questioned.

“Yep. He leaves unarmed, comes back unarmed, and stays completely out of sight. I only know that last bit because not even the _rags_ have printed any pictures of him, even if it is just a blur,” Darcy answered as Natasha shifted Darcy’s plate so it was easier for her to reach.

“Thank you wifey,” she stated and focused on Phil again.

“Also, how often have you been contacted for clarification or whatever?” Darcy asked as she cut into a pancake with the side of her fork.

“From Bucky? Eight times. Why?” Phil asked.

“I’ve been contacted 24 times,” Darcy answered and Phil stared.

“He’s showing a preference,” Clint stated and Darcy nodded.

“You think he’ll recover,” Natasha stated.

“Fully and completely. I don’t think they wiped him. Or at least, if they did, that isn’t what caused Bucky to revert to Winter Soldier,” Darcy continued cheerfully. “Well, maybe. I am _really_ not on the up and up with HYDRA tech. Unfortunately, that is… _Richards_. And Jane. And surprisingly Thor, once he took some to Asgard and brought it back with Asgardian names for it,” Darcy answered.

Phil choked on his pancakes this time and Clint stood to pound on his back. “Thor took HYDRA tech?” Phil rasped out.

“A small tiny… yeah, he took some HYDRA tech, but he brought it back! _And_ he signed it out using the proper forms,” Darcy responded cheerfully.

“I’m not sure which is fucking with my mind most - Thor taking HYDRA tech to Asgard, or Thor filling out the proper paperwork,” Clint admitted.

“Maybe we should start talking to them,” Darcy mused. “Or see if Bucky will let us help him, now.”

“Darcy,” Phil sighed. “I don’t think he trusts us enough for that, yet.”

“Maybe,” Darcy said vaguely. “But I still think we should start having discussions with Jane and Thor and Sam. See if this seems to be more in hand with the tech or with… Bucky, himself.”

“It wouldn’t be too surprising,” Natasha admitted. “Perhaps it would be best if we also had Steve or Tony involved. They would be the ones to best assess Bucky’s actions, since they were the most involved in his recovery process.”

“Tony’s going to remain unavailable,” Darcy said simply.

Clint pressed his hands to the table, sighing. “Is he alright?”

“Yes,” Darcy said easily.

Natasha flicked a glance at her, but didn’t say anything about it. “Then Steve. Will you be able to stay calm with him around again?”

“Yeah.”

Now that wasn’t a lie, Natasha thought. She took Marie when Darcy handed her over so she could straighten her clothes. Marie grabbed hold of her hair, babbling cheerfully. Natasha reached over for the teething ring, which really wasn’t nearly as cold as it had been, but still seemed to make Marie happy.

Marie grabbed onto it and began to drool all over it as she gnawed on it. Natasha smiled and spoke to her in Russian as she cuddled her close, rubbing her cheek gently, which had Marie kicking in her arms. “You want to go to your sea of cushions?” Natasha asked as she stood up, depositing dishes one handed as Darcy hurried off to get ready for the work day.

Marie wiggled and kicked, now wide awake and probably wanting to play. Natasha walked to their living room and the said sea of cushions. She hummed gently, carefully settling Marie upright, resting a hand on her back, adjusting Marie’s seat a bit before she drew her hand away. Marie gnawed on her teething ring and fell over, onto her cushions. “Yeah. Thankfully Darcy has all your play things in her office. Except for the plush blocks. You want to play with the plush blocks?” Natasha asked, easily reaching under the rounded cornered side table to fish the plush blocks out of the toy box.

Marie dropped her teething ring to grab at the plush block, the thing ringing as she beat it against her pillows while Natasha began to pull out others so Marie could play with more, taking the teething ring back to wipe off, or just throw back into the freezer.

Marie would want it soon enough, though she seemed happy to soak a plush block that squeaked with her drool while she waved the ringing one around with her other hand. “Awww, look at her! Soon she’s going to be crawling around and falling and getting into the vents,” Clint squealed.

He let out a sound when Marie threw her ringing block at Clint, which actually managed to hit him.

Not that hard, considering he was on the sea of cushions. “Oh, she’s got your genes all right,” Natasha stated.

Clint stuck his tongue out at her and Darcy was there, wearing sensible flats and smiling. “Look who I have Marie! It is Blue Bear!” she greeted as she held out the bear that was dressed in a blue uniform with red accents and a black mask on his face.

They rotated them, because Marie didn’t seem to have a favorite that she couldn’t be without yet. Well, unless one counted her knit blanket, which was peeking out of the baby bag over Darcy’s shoulder.

Marie wasn’t having anything to do with Blue Bear however, instead reaching for the ringing plush block, which Clint handed back to her. “Got it,” Darcy stated, tossing the bear into the toy box, and carefully picking up Marie.

“Okay, say bye-bye to your other Mama and your uncles. Today is office play day!” Darcy cheered as Natasha stood.

They kissed quickly and then Darcy was heading for work, chatting non-stop at Marie the whole way.

Natasha sighed and smiled softly at the closed elevator doors. “You make a great mom Nat,” Clint stated.

“Thanks Clint. You’re not a half-bad uncle,” Natasha responded in ASL.

“Thanks Nat,” Clint responded dryly.

“You’re welcome.”

Clint stuck his tongue out at her and then hopped into the vents, probably to follow Darcy. “Make a better dad though,” she whispered and stood up with a stretch.

She and Phil were teamed up for work at Hub 19 today.

They would have to hurry if they wanted to get there on time.

*~*~*

The Soldier had returned and headed straight for the Commander’s office. He was certain the Voice had reported that he had left, even if it hadn’t stopped him. He wanted to remain on the good side of the Commander - it would be more likely to get him information when he asked for it, such as any changes in the Mechanic’s ETA.

He crept through hallways, ducking in and out of sight, until he reached the door for the Commander’s office.

The Voice had probably let her know he was there. He hesitated just a moment more before entering.

“Soldier,” the Commander greeted casually.

He stood there, confused and uncertain how to process the fact that there was a _baby_ on a blanket on the floor, banging blocks on the ground.

There was a baby in the Commander’s office.

The… Commander had a baby?

The Commander had a baby.

And it was in the office.

Three feet from him.

The Commander looked up and smiled a bit. “Oh, that’s Marie. Usually, if I’m just going to be in the office and no one else is really available, she stays with me. Marie, say hi.”

The baby looked at the Commander then started babbling.

The Soldier realized he’d stepped away, ending up with his back pressed to the wall. The baby kept babbling, holding out her block.

“It’s alright,” the Commander said gently. “Everything is just fine, everyone is okay here, yeah? Yeah.” She walked around her desk and picked up the baby, taking a few steps closer to the Soldier.

The baby stared curiously, babbling a bit. The Soldier had to drag his eyes away when the Commander spoke again.

“How did your visit go?”

He swallowed. “The Mechanic does not require extraction. He was not able to provide an ETA. He is…” He thought, finding his eyes drifting back to the baby.

“Soldier?” she questioned and he stared at her, then back at the baby.

“Baby,” he stated.

“Yes, Marie. She’s five months old. Soon she’s going to be crawling all over the place and I’m going to have to actually use the playpen the Mechanic made for her,” she answered and the Soldier shifted his head slightly.

“Why?” he asked.

“Why did the Mechanic make her a playpen?” Darcy asked and the Soldier nodded once.

“Well, Marie is my baby, both in that I am raising her and that I actually gave birth to her,” Darcy answered and the Soldier stared.

This….

The Commander had a baby. The Commander had a baby that was often here, or in the arms of….who?

“Where?” he questioned.

“Where is she when I don’t have her?” she asked and Bucky nodded again.

“Well, depends on who is available, really, of everyone who is cleared and can handle children. More than one person took this job so they would have a valid excuse to never go near children again. So, there is the Black Widow, my second in command. The Director, though not very often. Thor does, quite often actually, and Hawkeye sometimes watches her. The Captain seems to be doing better, so if he was available I’d be willing to leave her with him. It is a very short list, actually. And if I can’t get anyone to take care of her well…. I either don’t go to the area or I take her with me. When going to meet with you, I find someone else to take care of her, mostly because she does take up a lot of my atten _tion_ _,”_ the Commander answered, only for her final word to end on a higher note when the baby grabbed at her hair, tugging it.

“Ai, ai, my little one, no yanking on Mama’s hair. I know it is so nice and silky and lovely to yank on, but it hurts me,” she soothed, distracted as she tried to have a giggling baby release her hair.

She hummed a bit, though managed to get her to release the hair, pulling it over the opposite shoulder, only for Marie to shove a partially soaked plush block into the Commander’s face, babbling. “Ah, yes, I can see. This is a fine block, very squishy, drool-soaked, and squeaky,” she stated, gently tugging it away from her face.

“See what I mean?” she asked as the baby began to make noises.

“Ah, and that is your, ‘Mama, I’m hurting’ cry. Yes, yes baby, I know. Teething _sucks_ _,”_ the Commander stated as she walked over to the fridge next to her desk, kneeling down to pull out… a round ring from the freezer section.

The plush block was dropped and the baby grabbed at the ring, chewing on it. The Commander picked up the block and tossed it onto the blanket the baby had been lying on earlier and shifted the baby as she did so.

She didn’t move her hair again.

Five months old, he thought.

He had been with them for almost four.

It felt like relevant information, though he wasn’t sure why. Maybe it was the same intuition that had insisted that Mechanic, Engineer, and Dr. Stark were not the right titles. The one that prompted him to speak to the Commander over the Director. Why he _trusted_ these people, why he asked the Voice to tell him when the Captain was in the Tower again.

“Are you planning to visit the Mechanic again?” the Commander asked.

He shrugged, still watching the baby teeth on the ring, her head resting on her mother’s shoulder and watching Bucky.

The Soldier was dangerous. He should not be around a baby, especially the baby of the Commander.

He turned to leave, slipping out the door quickly and retreating down the hall. He almost got caught twice. His mind was moving fast, processing this new information, trying to fit it in with everything. Was the Commander in a relationship as well then? With someone in the Agency or outside of it? She hadn’t hinted either way.

He returned to his floor, and it was quiet and still and….

For a while, he paced. Probably he should return to his schedule, which said he should have eaten a meal by now. He should be doing whatever activity was scheduled for the day. He ignored the Voice prompting him to shower and change, perhaps, or to eat.

The Commander had a baby.

The Mechanic was afraid and claimed to be broken and would not give - could not give - an ETA.

The Captain - who, from what he could gather - had lived in the Tower and now only visited.

He was always stuck on this floor, unless he broke out to see the Mechanic or report to the Commander, and he was always watched by the Voice, and - and….

He collapsed into a chair.

His head ached.

He suddenly wanted to go for a run. He wanted to _not_ be on his floor. He stood up and headed for the elevator.

The Voice let him go.

*~*~*

“Clint, why are you calling me?” Phil asked after the second time Clint called him on his office phone in Hub 19.

“The Winter Soldier is in the gym. He’s not… talking to anyone, or getting in the way, but he’s in the gym, on a treadmill, and he seems pretty intent on staying for a while,” Clint reported and Phil felt a headache start behind his eyeballs.

He also wondered if he could hit his head hard enough against his desk to knock himself unconscious or if he would just give himself a worse headache. “So… not hurting anyone, not bugging anyone, just… running?” Phil asked.

“Yep,” Clint answered.

“If he’s still there in four hours, drag him off to the communal to eat. Or have Steve do it. Do _not_ let Darcy do it. Nobody nearby is cleared to take care of Marie,” Phil stated.

“I’m cleared to take care of Marie,” Clint protested.

“Not on paper you’re not,” Phil retorted.

“Why did I marry you?” Clint asked.

“Benefits,” Phil answered dryly.

“Okay. And if he goes rogue?” Clint asked.

“Tranq him and have JARVIS _keep_ him on his floor,” Phil responded.

“Aye, aye, AC to DC,” Clint responded.

“You ever mimic Stark again, I will send you to the floor,” Phil stated.

“I love you too _baby_ ,” Clint answered.

“Couch. Good-bye Clint,” Phil answered.

“Bye-bye boo-bear,” Clint teased.

“Floor,” Phil finished and hung up.

“Early grave,” Phil grumbled as he went back to his paperwork.

*~*~*

The Soldier looked up when Hawkeye walked over to the treadmill. “Okay, its been four hours, and you’ve cycled through walking, resting, and running, but I have orders to take you to the communal. Yay, people. You want to go or something else?” Hawkeye asked.

“I will stay,” the Soldier replied.

“Sorry, but Director’s orders to get you out of here now.”

The Soldier clenched his jaw. Arguing would not serve him well.

He didn’t want to return to his floor. He didn’t want to interact with other people at the Agency.

Hawkeye sighed. “Look, hardly anyone is going to be at the communal right now. So long as I take you there, make you eat? Technically I fulfilled orders. You can come back here and run yourself to exhaustion if that’s what you want, but come get something to eat. Before you pass out.” He paused, then added, “It will give you more energy to continue.”

It was blatant manipulation. The Soldier stopped the treadmill and jumped down. His legs were weak feeling, but still held him. He followed behind Hawkeye to the communal, keeping his head down the entire time. He allowed Hawkeye to pile food onto a plate and push it into his hands.

“Oh, fu…” Hawkeye started to say. The Soldier frowned a bit, glancing at the man. Following his gaze, he saw a group of young looking Agents walk in, followed by….

The Captain.

The young agents all went to grab food, talking among themselves and piling on plenty to eat. Captain Rogers filled a glass with water and wandered over to a table, never once looking up or around the room.

The Soldier scowled.

“C’mon, let’s go,” Hawkeye breathed, tugging at the Soldier’s arm.

He refused to move.

“Soldier,” Hawkeye said, looking back at him. “Let’s-”

Breaking Hawkeye’s hold was as simple as merely pulling out of it as he walked away, taking his plate over to the table where the Captain was slumped. He sat down across from him, pushing the plate into the middle.

Slowly, the Captain looked up at him. He frowned, confused.

“Bu- Soldier. What are you doing here?”

That should be fairly obvious. Pointedly, the Soldier grabbed one of the rolls off the plate and tore off a piece, eating it and keeping his eyes locked with the Captain’s.

Hawkeye fell into a chair between them, making lots of noise and jabbering away about… something the Soldier decided was unimportant.

He took another piece of the roll, then pointedly looked from the Captain to his own plate.

Files that he probably wasn’t supposed to have access to had said the Captain had an increased metabolism, and therefore needed to eat more and more often. The Captain looked unpleasantly unwell, too.

“You should not be able to do that still,” the Captain muttered, almost soundlessly, and reached out to take a half of a sandwich off of the Soldier’s plate.

He filed away the use of the ‘still’, putting it with all the other pieces that didn’t quite make sense yet, to be analyzed later.

Bucky heard whispers, logging them in as unimportant and continued to eat, making sure that Captain Rogers ate at every step of the meal. He was surprised when Hawkeye’s pocket began to blare cheerful music. “Clint,” Captain Rogers stated, and Hawkeye… didn’t stop chattering.

The Soldier frowned and was surprised when Captain Rogers reached over to wave his hands in front of Clint’s face, which drew his attention. The Captain made a gesture and Hawkeye frowned before he pulled a phone out of his pocket.

“Whoops,” he stated and answered the phone.

“Hi,” he greeted.

No sound came out of the phone, but words appeared across the screen. “Communal. Why?”

“Yeah, sure, I’ll have Cap stay with the Soldier. Mostly because… communal,” Hawkeye answered.

“Okay, no, I’m coming, yeah, yeah, coming, coming,” Hawkeye answered and the phone went dark.

He fiddled with a bit and then replaced it. “I have to go. Cap, stick with Soldier. He’s dictating what he wants to do today,” Hawkeye answered and then he was gone.

The Captain stared after him, looking almost panicked.

For some reason, that seemed… amusing.

Looking back at him, the Captain said, “I uh… You want to return to your floor? Or, uh, the gym?”

The Soldier tilted his head, considering. The food on the plate was gone. He did not feel the need to return to his floor, quiet and empty as it was. However, he no longer felt like returning to the gym and running in hopes that his mind would quiet.

He shrugged, leaning back and watching the Captain.

The Captain rubbed his hands over his face, bracing his elbows on the edge of the table. “Okay. So… where else can you go?” he murmured.

“The Mechanic’s workshop,” he offered.

The Captain grimaced. “Yeah, well my access was rescinded, so unless JARVIS is feeling particularly generous, that’s out. Besides… never did like going down there when Tony’s… gone.”

It had been months since the Commander had told the Soldier it was because of stress caused by the Captain that the Mechanic had left. He hadn’t mentioned to the Mechanic about the message the Captain had asked him to pass, because he hadn’t thought it would help the Mechanic repair himself. Perhaps at a later date.

But, it seemed the Captain perhaps needed some... repair himself.

The Captain couldn’t leave him alone, however. Perhaps the Soldier could use that.

No gym, not his floor, they could not both access the Mechanic’s workshop….

The Soldier did not know anywhere else to go.

“I am unaware of other areas I may access,” he admitted.

The Captain seemed to consider and then gave a tiny smile. “There is a garden in construction on the roof,” he stated and the Soldier tilted his head.

“It is safe and open to everyone with a passcode. Anyone with a passcode can bring one guest,” the Captain stated and the Soldier considered before he nodded.

The Captain gave a small smile and stood up, the Soldier following him shortly after.

*~*~*

Steve wasn’t sure what he was expecting when he took Bucky, the Winter Soldier, up to the garden. Maybe something that would jar Bucky back, though not really.

He wasn’t expecting, however, for him to climb up into the ‘aesthetic tree’ (“I cannot have _real_ trees on the top of my building, Capsicle, just… no.”) and sit there. He was staring up through the leaves before he looked around. “Colorful,” he stated and Steve looked around, noticing the flowers that had already been planted, giving the place a very lively look.

“Yeah, it is,” Steve agreed as the Soldier continued to stare around the roof-top garden from his perch in a fake tree.

He seemed… not happy, but calmer up there. Steve settled in on the ground at the base of the tree and stretched out. It was a good place for sketching. He should come up here more often, really, but just… hadn’t.

When the Soldier came down, during sunset, and followed Steve inside, Steve decided to bring both of them up here more often. Get Bucky out of the building, off of his floor, without having to hide, and let himself do some sketching, in space he could get the closest to Tony.


	15. Chapter 15

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is... kind of ridiculously long, but I'm sure you all don't mind THAT. lol. There just didn't seem a good place to cut it earlier....

Steve was visiting the Tower again - more and more often lately, since he thought it did both him and Bu- the Soldier good to get outside to the roof and relax. It wasn’t the same as relaxing on the couch with Bucky was, but it was still nice. The roof garden was nice; Steve wished he knew where Tony was, could get ahold of him to talk to him about it. But… it’d been a while since he and Tony had spoken. Steve wasn’t sure he should reach out to Tony before Tony reached out to him.

He was so confused, and some days it made him so _angry_. Those days he tried to find something to do - sometimes Clint was available, and they did games of paintball just the two of them, or Natasha was around to spar with. Other days it made him feel nothing more than tired, almost empty feeling, and those days he’d visit with B- the Soldier or Sam, if he wasn’t at work.

Apparently all this was normal, though, and he was figuring out how to best manage it. Hence trying to find people and things to do, instead of hitting a punching bag until his hands were bleeding or brooding over it alone.

He’d even taken up work outside of being a superhero or missions. It felt good - productive - to be doing something consistently. Using the training facilities at the Tower with Phil’s okay (they were better suited to Steve’s needs), every few days he brought in his little batch of new agents and took them through their paces. It was the same training modules the Avengers used, if extremely simplified. They were _new_ agents, after all - baby agents, as Tony had always called them.

It helped to focus on working, on preparing the baby agents for what they might encounter in the field, instead of thinking uselessly about how things with Tony had been left. How long it’d been. How in the beginning Steve hadn’t even really thought about _calling Tony_. It’d been so long… Steve hated how long he’d let things sit, wasn’t sure why he had. And he wasn’t sure he should do anything about it, not yet, even if he desperately wanted to hear Tony’s voice.

Steve was thinking of asking Natasha, though, if she knew anything about Tony. Any news at all. Steve was certain Darcy knew more than anyone else did, and he couldn’t imagine that if Darcy knew something Natasha didn’t at least suspect some of it. He just… he wanted to hear from someone, he supposed, that he _should_ call Tony. He wanted to. It’d been over a month and he… really, really wanted to talk to Tony. About his sessions with Dr. Nadia, about how he’d started training baby agents, about the roof garden, about how Bucky was doing, about how big Marie was getting (and how cute it was when Natasha cooed at her in Russian).

“Hi, got a thing, watch the baby,” Darcy said, walking onto the common floor and glancing around. Natasha had two cups of coffee in her hands and raised a brow at her. Rolling her eyes, Darcy stepped over and handed Marie to Steve before turning to leave again, calling back, “Should still be back in time for dinner!”

“Um,” Steve said, a little startled. He adjusted his hold on Marie, lifting her up against his chest. She babbled at him.

Natasha sat down, setting his cup on the table and curling her hands around her own, sipping it. “Watch it, Cap,” she suggested.

Steve grimaced and tilted his head away so that Marie’s hand slapped onto his cheek, little nails scratching lightly, instead of getting a hold of his mouth. She babbled some more - it sounded like scolding in Steve’s mind - and hit his cheek lightly again before twisting impossibly to grab for the pillow nearby. Natasha chuckled and leaned back against the arm of the couch, sipping at her coffee.

“You should take her to her floor mat,” she said. “This is usually playtime, right before naptime.” She gave a little sigh. “Which is quickly becoming my favorite time.”

Steve snorted. “You can have my coffee, if you’d like,” he said as he stood up, carrying Marie to the mat on the floor and her toys. His throat tightened when he saw a bear with a mask and blue jacket. He wondered who had bought that for her - he could think of a couple of them that would find it amusing, including Tony.

“I will, thanks,” Nat said. “She likes her blocks,” she added as Steve took a seat on the floor, setting Marie carefully down.

Marie made happy noises and was already stretching for the blocks, just out of her reach. Steve pushed them closer and Marie immediately latched onto the corner of one, chewing on it.

After a while, Steve stretched out and picked up the bear, giving up on trying to ignore it. “Who got this?” he asked.

Natasha didn’t answer, and when Steve looked over she was asleep on the couch, mouth open and fingers still wrapped around the - probably, hopefully empty - coffee cup. He climbed to his feet and checked before slowly peeling it free and setting it on the table.

She didn’t even twitch. Steve huffed a bit, amused and amazed, and went back over to Marie. She glanced up as he came over, dropping the block and reaching for the bear in his hands, making all kinds of noises. Steve smiled slightly and gave the bear over to her.

“I bet your Uncle Tony thinks it’s hilarious you have a Bucky Bear. The only way he’d be more pleased is if they made little Iron Man bears… actually, I’m surprised they don’t.” Steve paused, wondering if they _did_ exist and he just didn’t know about it. He was curious now, so pulled his phone out of his pocket and searched it up. “You should have a bear of your mom,” he mumbled. “I _bet_ there’s a whole line of Avengers themed bears. We’ve got action figures, after all.”

Marie made a firm noise. Steve decided to interpret it as agreement.

*~*~*

Steve had been thinking about it, talked it over a few times with Dr. Nadia. He was almost certain in his decision, but….

“Dude, you’ve been staring at that enchilada for like ten minutes. Eat it before it gets cold,” Sam suggested, bringing a last forkful of his own enchilada to his mouth.

Steve grimaced and picked up his fork, cutting into it, only to set the fork aside almost immediately. He clenched his hands for a moment and then forcefully loosened them. He felt keyed up, almost nervous but more like he was preparing for a battle. Which he wasn’t, and he just had to remind himself that everything was fine. He wasn’t being attacked. Blowing out a slow breath through his mouth, Steve leaned back and purposefully relaxed his body.

Sam was watching him, steady and waiting.

“I think I’m going to move back into the Tower,” Steve said lowly. “Not… not back to the floor. But, to my floor. The one when I first moved in.” He glanced at Sam. “I think it’d be good for me."

“Yeah, alright,” Sam said after a moment, nodding. “You feel ready to make that change, I’m here for you. You just let me know when you want to make the move and I’ll help you cart your shit over.”

Steve smiled slightly. “Yeah. Thanks.” He picked his fork back up and finally started eating his dinner.

*~*~*

Darcy didn’t hesitate to answer her ringing cell phone. “Hey,” she greeted.

“Hi Darce. How is Marie?” Tony responded and Darcy chuckled a little.

As if he didn’t know. She had sent him tons of pictures at various points throughout the day. She had debated showing him a picture of Steve holding Marie, but had decided to not at this time. She could only occasionally slip them in without having Tony get a little upset.

Not a lot upset, just a little. Some days it took one picture to have him become moody, or maybe guilty. Without being able to see him, much of how she was able to understand him was lost. “Doing well. I left her with someone I trusted to watch her for a bit and I’m enjoying some baby-free time. I love her dearly, but babies are very draining on the energy reserves. Natasha and I have had exactly _no sex_ since Marie was born, just so you know,” she retorted.

“I never needed to know that,” Tony retorted.

“I feel like you do sometimes. It keeps you on your toes. How is Peggy?” Darcy responded and she meant, _How are you?_

Tony wouldn't answer that question. “Well. I think she misses everyone,” he answered.

_I miss everyone._

“So… how is… everyone?” Tony hedged.

_How is Steve?_

“Everyone is doing good. Hold up, I have a cute picture to send you,” she stated and pulled her phone away, thankful for Tony being so wonderful and making it so she could send texts while remaining on the phone.

She attached the picture to a text, of Steve holding Marie, one he had no idea she got, and sent it to Tony.

She then went back to the call and waited for Tony’s reaction. There was silence for a brief moment and then Tony’s sharp exhale.

“Yeah… everyone looks good,” he answered.

“So, you should be expecting the Soldier on your doorstep in a couple of days,” she stated.

“Really? Why… why does he do this?” Tony responded.

“Because he likes you. And I think part of him is terrified you’re going to get wiped or something like that. So mostly I just let him do what he wants in that regard,” Darcy responded as she began to read through reports she needed to sign off on.

“Yeah. You coming to visit again?” Tony asked.

“I can if you want,” Darcy answered, even though she really couldn’t.

She had things to fold together and papers to sign and a shit-ton of other things to do. She had a Private Spy Agency to run (with some of Coulson’s signatures) after all.

Everyone knew the place fell apart when the secretary had to take a vacation.

But the world of the Private Spy Agency can breathe without her, for at least a little while.

“No. The Soldier is about to do one of his little regular pop-ins and decide if he should abduct me to safety or not. So far the ‘nots’ are winning and I really want to see if this next one will be a ‘not’ as well,” Tony responded.

Darcy let out a little laugh and nodded. “All right then. I’ll pencil you in for a visit sometime in mid-July, all right?” she responded, already making a note of trying to do so on her desk calendar.

“Perfect,” Tony responded.

They chatted for a while, about nothing and everything. Idle things that were meant only to fill the silence and to keep Tony updated on the world he’s half-hiding away from at the moment. She happily informed him about missions and the way the team was bonding.

“They miss you,” she added.

“I miss them too,” he admitted and Darcy smiled.

He was getting better.

He was one step closer to coming home.

*~*~*

Steve startled when he turned into his kitchen to find the Soldier waiting there for him.

He knew that he’d been gone - Darcy had told him - but hadn’t expected to see him after he’d gotten back. At least, not without searching him out first.

“You’re back,” Steve stated unnecessarily.

The Soldier gave a small tilt of his head, some kind of agreement or acknowledgement. Steve shifted on his feet, wanting to ask about Tony, not sure if he should.

“The Mechanic still does not require extraction,” he told Steve. To Steve, he sounded almost frustrated, which made perfect sense to him. He had no idea where Tony was - or why Bucky kept thinking he needed to be extracted, like he was trapped there somehow - but he’d been assured by Darcy, Pepper, and even JARVIS that Tony was _safe._

“Did he give an ETA?” Steve asked.

“No,” the Soldier said shortly.

Sighing, Steve nodded. He grabbed his sketchbook off the counter and gestured towards the elevator. “Garden?” he asked. The Soldier didn’t answer verbally, but his posture relaxed a bit and he followed Steve over to the elevator and up to the garden.

Steve went for his favorite bench - it had the best view of both the garden itself and the skyline beyond the building, and good lighting most of the day. The Soldier went straight for his usual tree, climbing up smoothly and settling with his back to the trunk. He had a knife in his hands - Steve had given up wondering about that - and was flipping it over and over, an unconscious kind of tick.

Steve found the skyline and the garden around him rather uninspiring at the moment. Instead, he focused on Bucky up in that tree, staring pensively into the distance. He rarely moved once he’d taken up a position in the tree, not until Steve got up to leave. So Steve took his time, starting with light sketches before filling in more and more of the details - the way his fingers curled around the knife, the strands of hair that had slipped from the ponytail he’d pulled his hair into, the little furrow between his brows.

Phil found them up there a few hours later, Steve having finished that drawing and moved on to a sketch of Tony from his memory.

“Captain,” he greeted, eyes flicking to Bucky only once. Steve closed the sketchbook and stood.

“What is it, Director?” he asked. It was getting easier to remember to refer to Phil as Director, to Darcy as Commander, in these kinds of situations. He wished it didn’t have to be like this, but he’d stopped trying to fight it.

“Mission for you, we have a possible cell in Florida. Hawkeye and a few junior agents will be going with you. You leave in two hours.”

Steve nodded, watching as Phil left. As soon as the door closed behind him, Bucky dropped from the tree and wandered to Steve’s side.

He didn’t say anything as he followed Steve to the door, but once they were back in the elevator, heading down to Steve’s floor, he did.

“I could assist.”

Steve glanced at him, but the Soldier was staring ahead, expressionless except for that remaining small furrow between his brows. Steve smiled and placed his hand on his shoulder.

“Thank you,” he said sincerely. “But I don’t think the Director has cleared you for missions yet.”

There was a flash of frustration, then nothing except an accepting nod.

Steve didn’t buy the acceptance act one bit, but decided not to comment on it. Either Phil would find himself facing a determined Soldier, or the Soldier would pull another breakout to follow along. Nothing Steve could do about that, was there?

Steve got off on his floor, giving the Soldier a slight, reassuring smile before the elevator doors closed behind him.

He stripped out of his clothes as he headed for his room, cursing when his cell phone clattered to the floor from his pocket and under the table. He’d grab it on his way back out, once he’d changed into the uniform. Damn thing was sometimes more trouble than it was worth, winding up in the strangest places.

Twenty minutes later, he had a bag with a change of clothes and his retrieved phone, the shield on his back, and he was ready to get more information about what cell, exactly, was waiting in Florida.

*~*~*

Tony chewed his lip, staring at the phone. Just like he had for the last twenty minutes. He picked it up, dialed the number, and then set it down again.

He’d been in this place for just over three months. He still wasn’t sure how much longer he’d be staying. Pepper visited when she could, Darcy came by once or twice. Rhodey had stopped by once more before he’d gone back overseas. Hell, even Sam had stopped for a visit, once, to see how Tony was doing.

But Tony was missing everyone else, and okay, yeah, certain specific someones more than others. Since Bucky was still the Soldier though, that was kind of a hopeless proposition at the moment.

Steve though… Steve was something Tony _could_ fix. Or, try to fix.

It’d just mean, you know, admitting he’d fucked up this badly.

After all the awful things he’d said to Steve.

After JARVIS had gassed Steve, he’d been freaking Tony out so badly.

Tony _knew_ Steve would never hurt him, like that, but… well.

He picked up the phone again, dialed the number, and groaned as he dropped it to the table again, head thumping forward.

“Such a fucking coward, Stark,” he muttered. “Can’t even dial his number and speak to him, after three months of silence. You’re such a dick.”

Peggy dropped her muzzle on his knee. He scratched her behind the ear, staring at the grain of the wood for a long time.

“I could text him. Except I think the suspense of that would kill me, plus - immature. Really. I should be able to man up and fucking call him.”

He grimaced. “And now I sound like Howard. Fuck me.”

Sucking in a deep breath,  he didn’t try dialing the number.

He punched the speed dial and dropped his head back to the desk, listening to the sound of it ringing.

Ringing.

And ringing.

_“This is Steve Rogers. I’m unable to answer the phone right now. Leave a message and I will get back to you.”_

Tony swallowed thickly.

Quickly, he hit the call end button and dropped his fists to his lap, clenching them tight enough for his nails to bite into his palms. It… maybe Steve hadn’t had his phone on him, or had been busy. Maybe he was on a mission - or, no, Tony didn’t want to think about that, honestly. So, so either Steve had ignored him, which Tony wouldn’t _blame_ him for after… everything, three months of silence only being one of the reasons - good reasons - Steve would have… or, maybe, Steve just hadn’t had his phone on him. Maybe he’d lost it - left it in the fridge again.

Taking a deep breath, blinking his eyes clear, Tony slipped his phone back in his pocket and grabbed Peggy’s leash.

“Let’s go… outside.”

Peggy wagged her tail and happily followed after him into the sun.

*~*~*

Tony flipped a frisbee across the grounds, Peggy bounding away before she leapt up to catch it, racing back to him. She easily let it go when he gave a small tug and they both looked over when someone gave an appreciative whistle.

There was a tall guy standing there, a book in hand, watching Tony and Peggy. “My dog always make me chase him,” he stated.

“Oh… she used to, when she was a puppy. But a friend got her to stop that,” Tony answered, scratching Peggy behind the ears, remembering how Bucky had trained her.

He had gotten tired of chasing her down for her frisbee or ball or anything. Originally it was exchanging the ball or frisbee for a treat, but eventually she just gave it over. Then it had been ending it on their terms, which was quite easy to do, but she threw the most adorable whining temper tantrums when they stopped playing.

Those stopped rather quickly, however, when Bucky would drag Tony away to make sure they ignored her, so no matter how much she wanted to play, if they paused, or stopped, the game, she’d stand quietly.

Sometimes she’d whine, but not very often now. “Would he take my dog?” the guy asked as he walked over, holding his hand out for Peggy, who sniffed at it, but otherwise didn’t go for pets.

Tony rubbed her shoulder and twirled the frisbee around in his hand. “Peggy,” he called and she perked up, bouncing a bit.

“Fetch,” he said, flicking the frisbee away and Peggy took off.

He scrubbed his palm against his his jeans. “I’m Tony,” he offered.

“Paul. I’m new here,” he responded and Tony gave a small smile and a nod as he dropped Paul’s hand as Peggy came rushing back.

Another small tug with a quiet word of praise, and the frisbee was in his hand, only to sail away again, Peggy tearing off after it. “Well… he doesn’t have a license to train dogs, so probably not,” Tony answered with a small shrug as Peggy ran back, frisbee in her jaws.

“Pity,” Paul stated and Tony nodded as he gently tugged Peggy’s frisbee from her jaws.

Peggy wiggled happily and bounded in a circle briefly as Tony flicked it out for her to race after it again.

“Hey, do you have the time?” Paul asked and Tony glanced at his watch.

“1:23,” Tony recited.

“You know where the workshop is?” Paul asked.

“Yeah. I’ll walk you over. I have 1:30 workshop too,” Tony answered as Peggy ran up to him, frisbee in her jaws. He tugged it from her and turned to walk out. She let out a little whine but followed him. Paul huffed, maybe amused or just amazed at how well behaved she was. Tony smiled a bit, reaching down to ruffle her ears.

He put the frisbee away in the bin that everyone could use and clicked her leash on, wrapping the other end around his wrist and shoving his hands into his jacket pockets. He walked beside Paul, rolling his phone around and around in his hand.

He’d called almost an hour ago.

He hadn’t gotten a call back yet.

Steve had probably lost his phone again, and not realized. He still did that, all the time.

Okay, no, not really  _all the time_ anymore. Steve was too fond of texting, and taking pictures with it to send to everyone else.

He was probably… busy.

Tony dropped Peggy off in one of the gated areas before walking over to the building. He gestured for Paul to precede him into the workshop. The noise and familiar chaos soothed him slightly, easing some of the tension out of his muscles, and he went to his usual table. After a moment, Paul followed behind him. “Uh, you don’t… mind if I kind of stick close?” He quickly held up his hands. “I mean, if it’s going to bother you or something, then it’s cool, I can back off, but-”

Tony waved his hand dismissively. “Don’t mind, you can stay.”

“Thanks,” Paul said quietly.

“Sure,” Tony said, pulling out his phone and setting it in sight. Just in case it got noisy and he couldn’t hear the ringtone.

For a while, he just… worked, stopping to help Paul when he noticed him hesitating uncertainly. He always kept an eye on his phone, if he could. He checked it a few times, in case he’d missed Steve’s call back anyway.

Nothing. No new or missed calls. He had a signal here, of course he did, it was a StarkPhone after all.

Maybe Steve was on a mission and no one had told him. He could call Darcy and ask.

And if Steve _wasn’t_ on a mission? That would mean he was probably ignoring Tony. The idea of knowing that, for sure, wasn’t at all appealing. He’d rather wallow in uncertainty, thanks very much.

Still, maybe he should call again….

“Ow,” he hissed, yanking his hand back and shaking it. Right. He should be… focusing.

And now Paul was staring.

“You okay?” Paul asked and Tony glanced at his phone before he nodded.

“Are you sure? You certainly don’t seem it,” Paul asked and Tony nodded again.

He was _fine_. Steve probably left his fucking cell in the freezer.

Which is why the newest one was Nintendo console grade strength now.

Because he did it all the _fuck_ -....

He hissed and yanked his hand back, shaking it out. “Yeah, you are completely fine,” Paul stated and Tony shot him an irritated look.

“So… spouse or date-mate?” Paul asked.

“Boyfriend,” Tony grit out and Paul’s fingers twitched slightly.

“Um… supportive?” Paul asked and Tony sighed.

“He doesn’t know I sighed up for this because I got in a fight with him and I am trying to call and apologize and the bastard isn’t even fucking answering his phone and I’m trying to keep from coming up with stupid, paranoid ideas, and it helps he’s done some of the stupid things I think up, like leaving his _fucking_ phone in the _fucking_ freezer,” Tony grumbled and continued to glance from his phone to what he was working on.

He should really pay more attention to the metal sculpture he was making over his phone before he did more damage he could recover from.

“So… didn’t give you mixed drinks when you were trying to stop?” Paul asked far too innocently.

“More like swap out my mixed drinks for virgin ones, the sneaky bastard,” Tony grumbled, and didn’t call Paul out on his tone.

He didn’t expect anything quite yet.

After all, Paul just got here. It took him and Linda two weeks of sitting side-by-side in three time slots to get close. “Wow, he really did that?” Paul asked.

“Yep. Well, when he thought I had too much. Which was after… seven? One time it was six,” Tony answered and Paul let out a strained laugh as he continued to work on his metal thing.

*~*~*

“You gave Paul Linda’s old schedule, didn’t you?” Tony asked Ms. Carson and she nodded.

“You aren’t really reaching out. And there is nothing requiring that you do so. But I figure that having Linda around helped, and maybe you’ll make a new friend you can actually take out into the real world,” Ms. Carson answered and Tony nodded a bit, even as he stared at his phone.

It had been three days.

Steve never lost his phone this long.

So either… Steve was on a mission or….

“Maybe,” he said in delayed reply, giving her a weak smile and getting to his feet.

Her lips pursed slightly, brows furrowing in the middle in concern. “Are you okay, Tony?”

“Sure, fine,” he said. “See you around Ms. Carson.”

He clenched his phone in his hand as he stepped outside, marching straight to his room, where he’d left Peggy. She surged forward like he’d been gone for ages, the little drama queen, and Tony dropped to the floor, letting her try to climb into his lap and over him. One of his arms wrapped around her, tangling in her fur, and he ducked his head into her shoulder.

“I knew I fucked it up, I knew it. I _knew_ -” He breathed in shakily. “Fine. Fine, if the asshole doesn’t want to call me back, fuck him. Just…” He was not going to get… upset by this, let this hurt. Nope. He was Tony fucking Stark.

He would be… fine.

But, you know, if he sat in his room for a while just holding on to Peggy, before his stomach insisted on food, then no one was going to know.

Rubbing his hands briskly over his face, Tony staggered to his feet, clipped on Peggy’s leash, and went to get some food. He’d just… grab something and go right back. A snatch and grab mission.

“Tony!” Paul said, from a table to the side, close to the drinks.

Tony paused, glancing longingly for the door - and his quiet room, away from people who could see how torn apart he was - before sighing and walking over to take a seat with Paul.

Guy seemed to be in even worse shape than he was, after all.

~*~*~

Steve dragged his hand over his hair, staring around, lost.

He could have sworn he’d left it… in his jacket? Or, no, it was the bedside table. Maybe the kitchen?

Shit.

He hadn’t lost his phone this badly in a long time. Okay, admittedly, he probably lost it more than he realized. Tony and Bucky always found it and put it where he’d notice it, though, and they weren’t… here.

Bucky.

Maybe he’d left it in the garden?

Steve took the elevator, tapping his foot impatiently as he went. He’d told Sam he’d call, since he was visiting family a couple states away, and he could always use JARVIS, but that just… well, now it was bugging him. Where the _hell_ had he left his phone?

He looked around under Bucky - the Soldier’s - favorite tree to sit in, and Steve thought that might have some latent memory of snipping behind it but didn’t say. He checked the bench he sat on when it was just him sketching the skyline, the bushes around it, the paths he’d walked once or twice.

Nothing.

He got back in the elevator, trying to think. Okay. Not the garden. He hadn’t found it on his floor, either, and he’d _searched_ damn it. Everywhere. Even behind the toilet.

Maybe he’d left it on the common floor. He’d watched a movie down there the other night with Clint, after all.

He was kind of glad no one else seemed to be there. It spared him the embarrassment of admitting he’d lost his phone, again. No one had to see - or laugh - at him digging through the couch cushions. (He didn’t find his phone, but he did find five bucks and some loose change. Plus a knife, and he wasn’t going to even try guessing whose it was.)

He checked the kitchen - pausing to make sure no one was around before he opened the fridge and checked the shelves, then did the same to the freezer.

Nothing by the coffee machine, nothing in the cabinets, nothing in the silverware drawer.

Okay… where else.

“Why are you glaring at the forks?”

Steve jerked around, staring wide-eyed at Bruce.

“I uh… lost in thought.”

Bruce gave him a strange look, glasses low on his nose and a cup of probably cold tea clutched in his hand. “Uh huh.”

“I’ll… bye, Bruce,” he said, dashing around him and hurrying back into the elevator. He caught sight of Bruce leaning back to peer at him oddly as the doors closed.

Steve slumped against the wall.

“I… don’t know where else to look,” he admitted.

JARVIS didn’t reply. Steve sighed. No help on that end, then.

He drummed his fingers on his thigh before pushing the button for the office levels. Maybe he’d left it in Phil’s office for lunch the other day.

It wasn’t there, but Phil was, giving him a searching look before smiling slightly.

“You need any help Captain?”

“No, I’m fine,” he said quickly. “Really. Just… misplaced it for a moment, I’m sure I’ll find it soon.”

“Of course,” Phil chuckled. “You went to see Darcy earlier in the week, didn’t you? Maybe it’s in there.”

“That was _ages_ ago,” Steve protested. “I’m _sure_ I had it after that.”

He still checked her office. (Thankfully, she wasn’t there. Steve kind of wanted to avoid unnecessarily bothering her, until he was sure she really had forgiven him. She had implied she had, Natasha said she had, but Steve wanted to be cautious. He did not want to chance being banished into paperwork hell again.)

He stood right before the elevators, hands on his hips, trying to think back to when he knew he’d had it last. Of course, he’d sworn he had it on him this whole time. Where else did he go that he might have… set it down and not thought about it?

“Captain Rogers, I believe you would like to be reminded of the time. You have a training session in fifteen minutes,” JARVIS said.

“Thank you,” Steve offered. He knew he’d really made JARVIS mad, and he didn’t blame him for that. Probably, he should _thank_ JARVIS for gassing him, if he’d been upsetting Tony as badly as Sam had pointed out he likely had.

He would. At some point. He’d apologized to JARVIS before he’d gone to apologize to Darcy, but he hadn’t gotten an answer at the time. At least JARVIS was sometimes talking to him now, though.

Steve put the hunt for his phone on hold. He went to his floor to get a fresh change of clothes for working out and changed before heading down to the training floor.

His students were coming along nicely. Most of them didn’t stumble after a throw anymore, could pop back up to their feet quickly and ready. They were actually following through with their hits, too. Steve was proud of them, would send them off to the next level - and he even had one or two he thought he might send to Natasha specifically. They’d do better, he thought, with the harder training.

It never tired him out, working with each student for several minutes per training session, barely worked up a sweat, but he still felt the need to shower after. He went into the locker rooms, knowing he had a spare change of day clothes in his locker. He rinsed off quickly, wrapping one of the regulation towels around his waist, and went to his locker, in it’s very private corner away from prying eyes.

He pulled out his clothes quickly.

His phone clattered to the ground.

“Are you kidding me?” he muttered. The last time he’d been down here had been _days_ ago, four or five really. “Maybe I _should_ glue you to my hand.”

Good thing about StarkPhones - they didn’t break easily, so it was just fine from the fall.

He pressed the side button, lighting up the screen, and smiled to see it was still reasonably charged.

He had a missed call, though.

Cursing in annoyance, Steve went to see who it was and… dropped the phone again, scrambling to pick it up so fast that his towel started to slip. His heart pounded up in his throat.

Holding the towel in place with one hand and the phone in the other, which was shaking, he dropped onto the floor numbly.

Tony had called him.

Tony had called him, and Steve had missed it.

_Four days ago._

“Shit,” Steve muttered and quickly dialed Tony’s number.

He muttered ‘pick-up, pick-up, pick-up, _please_ pick-up’ over and over again as the phone dialed, connected, and began to ring.

It rang twice before it went to voicemail.

_“This is Stark, Tony Stark. Leave a message when you hear the tones.”_

There was a little dual beep and Steve resisted the urge to laugh, even as he hung up. He hated leaving messages and he sighed softly. He scrubbed his hand through his hair and stared at his phone.

“Damn,” he hissed and closed his eyes, gripping his phone tight in his hand.

*~*~*

Paul raised an eyebrow as Tony scrambled to hit the Ignore button as the phone rang for the thirteenth time in two days that Paul had _seen_. And he shared three time spots with Tony.

“Not someone you want to talk to?” Paul asked as he accepted the ball from Peggy before he, gently, lobbed it away, the black Labradoodle bounding away after it.

Tony mumbled slightly and the phone went off _again_ as Peggy brought back the ball. Tony ignored it with shaking hands and shoved it back into his pocket. “Good girl,” Tony praised, rubbing her head as he gently took the ball and tossed it.

A soft chime came from Tony’s pocket, but Tony ignored it.

The phone didn’t ring again for the rest of their free time.

*~*~*

It had been five days since Steve had left a message. He called at dinner for New York every day, probably having suddenly remembered timezones, and Tony stared at it.

_1 New Voicemail_

It was… it was….

Steve _never_ left voicemails.

Why had he left a voicemail?

Tony’s thumb hesitated over pushing the button for the voicemail and Peggy whined softly, wiggling her way into his lap. With a shaky sigh, Tony hit the button and put the phone to his ear.

_“Hi Tony, it is Steve. I know you know that, this isn’t the ‘40s anymore, but I still like to say that.”_

There was a heavy sigh over the phone.

_“I… I am so sorry that you, that I… shit, I fucked up Tony, I fucked up so bad. I am so glad that JARVIS gassed me that day, I’m glad you had a fucking contingency plan for all of this, because I fucked up, but I wish that I hadn’t learned about that plan this way. Even if it is JARVIS’s, because… just….”_

There was another sigh and Tony was clinging to the phone.

 _“I am so sorry Tony. Also, do you know how I can safely glue the phone to my hand? I left it in my locker and… well, you and Bucky always found it for me. Always, and I never said thank you for that. Do you know that I’ve not kept this off my person since I found it again?”_ Steve stated and let out a low laugh.

“You bastard,” Tony hissed through his tears.

 _“I’ve kept it on me even when training the little baby agents. I do that now. God, I miss you. I miss you so much. I miss Bucky too, but I actually hurt you and it was my fault and when you reached out to me, because I got so used to you two always being around and picking up after me to make sure I had the phone, I didn’t even bother looking for it till I needed it,”_ Steve continued and he heard some noise in the background.

_“I’ve got to go. Darcy is actually shouting at me. I think she wants me to babysit Marie. She can sit up now. Darcy insists that she can say ‘mama’, but I haven’t heard it. I’m not saying that to her face though.”_

There was silence, followed by a staticky sound, like a sigh.

_“I love you Tony.”_

The message ended.

“Would you like to save the message, Sir?” JARVIS asked.

“Yes please,” Tony answered and there was the beep of it being saved.

“Saved, sir,” JARVIS answered and Tony lowered the phone, just as Peggy shoved her nose against the spot behind his ear.

He winced, but wrapped his arms around her, burying his face into her shoulder.

He wanted to go home.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay so you may not know this but we actually have a super precise timeline for this fic. Like, super precise. So I can tell you that when Tony calls Steve? That's June 26. The end of the chapter? July 7.
> 
> So as of now, Marie is about seven months old, Bucky's been with them for six, Tony's been in rehab for about three, as he stated.
> 
> Just thought you'd all like a timeline notice. It's been seven months and it is the first week of July.


	16. Chapter 16

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here's this week's chapter! Lots of emotions for our boys.
> 
> Also, as I stated at the end of the last chapter, it left off on July 7. This all happens July 10.

“So, uh, how… do you tell someone that you’ve been in rehab for like… almost four months?” Tony asked, foot tapping restlessly against the grass.

Paul looked at him like he was crazy. “I have no idea. Why are you asking _me? ”_

“Seem like a sensible guy,” Tony muttered, taking Peggy’s ball and throwing it. He wrapped his arm back around his knees. His phone was heavy in his pocket.

He had listened to Steve’s message at least a dozen times since the other day.

“Does this have to do with whoever was calling your phone nonstop?” Paul took the ball from Peggy, scratching her behind the ears. He threw it, and she took off with a happy bark.

“Maybe.”

That was simplifying things way too much, but it wasn’t a lie.

Pepper had been no help when he’d asked her, simply saying that Tony should ‘just tell him’ like it was something Tony could…. What was he supposed to _say_ , ‘Oh hey Steve, so for the past four months I haven’t been hiding out anywhere, I’ve been in rehab, how’s the weather in New York lately?’

Yeah. No.

“It’s your boyfriend, right?” Paul asked, plucking strands of grass out of the ground. “He knows about the… alcohol thing. Was helping you, sorta.”

“Right,” Tony mumbled.

“So… he wouldn’t be _mad_ that you’re here, would he?”

“I… guess not.” But maybe he’d be mad Tony hadn’t told him. Or, disappointed that Tony fell off the wagon in the first place. God that’d be even worse.

He’d been _proud_ of Tony for not drinking after Darcy was pregnant. And now….

Disappointed was definitely worse than angry.

Tony didn’t say any of that, though. Paul looked kind of… fragile, about the whole topic.

Tony decided to change the subject.

“When I go back home, I’m going to make a new tablet. I’ve got all the plans up here,” he said, tapping his head. “But I don’t really have the equipment here to even get proper blueprints started. I’ve got notes down, of course, but still. Need my workshop.”

“New tablet, huh?” Paul said, amused. “What’s going to be the new selling point?”

“Now that would be telling, Paul,” Tony said, wagging a finger. “My CEO is very stern about not telling.”

Paul laughed. “Pepper Potts, right? I’ve seen her in the news.”

“The rumors are all true, she’s as terrifying as they say,” Tony grinned.

Peggy brought the ball back, and Tony dropped it into his lap. She flopped over his feet, panting, tail wagging.

Peggy probably missed everyone at the Tower. She was so social, and she was just as attached to Steve and Bucky as she was to Tony, really. She had to miss them.

Okay, so she’d seen Bucky a la Winter Soldier just as often as Tony had.

Not the same.

He could… not tell Steve? Just… leave Steve thinking he was hiding out at some secluded Stark mansion or cabin in the middle of nowhere, and Steve wouldn’t push, probably. Tony could just wait out until he didn’t need rehab, and then he could go home, and Steve would never have to know.

Tony didn’t have to tell Steve that he’d fucked up, too, that he was here, that he couldn’t get better as fast as he’d wanted to, and didn’t know when he would be better, enough to come home at least.

He still worried that, going back out into the outside world, he’d slip up again. What if he slipped up worse this time, fucked up so bad that…?

Dropping his head to his knees, Tony let out a slow breath.

He wanted to listen to the voicemail again. He wanted to hear Steve’s voice.

But not where anyone could see him. Chances were, he’d break down over it again, cry maybe, or clutch his phone like it was a lifeline.

Stare at the button that would have him calling Steve back, finally talking to him.

He couldn’t remember when was the last time he’d gone this long without talking to Steve. Probably before he moved into the Tower.

Tony swallowed thickly.

“I’m uh… gonna go, okay?” he said, voice thick.

“Sure, Tony. I’ll see you later, yeah?” Paul agreed.

Tony nodded, then shrugged. “Maybe. Dinner, possibly.” Peggy jumped to her feet, following right at his side.

He hadn’t slept well since listening to the voice mail. The past few days he’d felt angry - at himself and at Steve - and anxious and hopeful and so many other things. It was hard to focus, sometimes, because he kept trying to imagine how the conversation with Steve could go. Maybe everything went perfectly, maybe Tony didn’t mention rehab, maybe he’d call and get voicemail again.

Maybe it’d go perfectly well… until Tony mentioned he was in rehab, and Steve would get disappointed that Tony had fucked up again, and _then_ Steve would break up with him. Maybe it’d be the thing that did break them, or maybe… maybe the voicemail was misleading. Just because Steve said he missed and loved Tony, didn’t mean that they were still in a _relationship_.

Tony knew he wasn’t doing himself any favors thinking about any of that. But he couldn’t help himself.

He both desperately wanted to talk to Steve, and was terrified of it.

Reaching his room, he stepped inside and let Peggy through before shutting the door. He sat on the floor, leaning back against his bed, and stared at his phone.

Pressing the button, he lifted it to his ear again.

_“Hi Tony, it is Steve. I know you know that, this isn’t the ‘40s anymore, but I still like to say that.”_

He just had to press the button. One little button, and he could hear Steve’s voice, but actually be hearing _Steve_ and not just a recording. He didn’t have to tell him where he was. Steve wouldn’t press, probably. Tony could just… keep hiding it.

Steve never had to know.

Tony closed his eyes tightly, swallowing compulsively past the lump in his throat.

He couldn’t.

He couldn’t lie like that to Steve, even if it was a lie of omission.

He just… didn’t know how to tell him, either.

“I’ll pick up if you call again, I swear,” he muttered. “Just… don’t make me the one to reach out. I can’t, I can’t do it, I’m a coward, and I can’t. Please, just… call me one more time, Steve. Please.”

Tony nearly jumped out of his skin when the phone in his hand began to ring. “Steve?” he called as he fumbled to answer it.

 _“No Tones, it’s Darcy,”_ Darcy answered and Tony felt as if his heart and lungs had been ripped straight out of his body. For a brief moment, he’d been hopeful, excited, and hearing Darcy instead of Steve, he felt disproportionately desolated.

He inhaled sharply and with a sharp exhale, began to sob.

*~*~*

The staticky exhales, the sharp sobs, the way it seemed like he couldn’t even breathe, worried her. Darcy began to sing random lullabies, and AC/DC, and any other song that came into her head, including Russian songs.

She fell silent however, when Tony began to sob out _everything_. The fact he had called Steve and it took Steve four days, or so, to call back. That he thought Steve was calling to break-up with him and ignored him, but instead he left a message. A really nice message that Tony had listened to so many times and he wanted to go home, he wanted to come home, but he couldn’t and….

There was another wave of Tony sobbing too hard for her to understand, or for him to breathe most likely, and she tried to calm him down again, wishing that she could hug him close and brush his hair out of his face, help him _breathe_.

He was gasping for air as he continued, explaining that he was scared, that he had failed maybe and she listened and comforted him when he paused like he needed to know she was there.

 _“I want to come home,”_ he sobbed and she made soothing noises.

“You can Tones, you _can_. I’ll come out on a private Stark plane, I’ll bring Marie. Do you want me to bring Steve? I can probably blindfold him and have it be a surprise and remove the blindfold when at the gates. Do you want me to do that?” she asked and Tony was breathing shakily and sobbing again.

She made soothing sounds, wishing she could just reach through the phone and pull him close.

 _“No, he doesn’t know,”_ Tony choked out. _“Darcy, he - he doesn’t-”_ He sobbed, desperately sucking in an unsteady breath. “ _Can’t just - just_ spring _it on him.”_ He made a pained sound, sobbing heavily. _“I don’t know how to tell him, I don’t want to tell him but I don’t want to_ lie _to him!”_

“Okay, that’s okay Tony. Do you want me to tell him?”

He was gasping, and again Darcy wished she was _there_ , to comfort him, to get a read on him more than she could over the phone. _“I,”_ his voice broke. _“I should be able to… he_ deserves _to hear it from me, but I can’t - I can’t, I’m a coward, I can’t,”_ he babbled.

“Tony, no, you are not a coward,” she said firmly. “Why don’t we just… practice. You can pretend I’m Steve and try out different things to say.”

Tony gave a strangled laugh. _“Like what? Like… So, Steve, for the past four months I haven’t been necessarily avoiding you, I’ve been in rehab. Surprise!”_

“That’s… probably not the best way, no,” Darcy said.

Tony laughed again, and it turned into a sob. _“He’s going to be disappointed,”_ he whispered, breathing in jerking, painful sounding gasps.

“I don’t think so,” Darcy disagreed quietly. “Come on. What’s another way?”

 _“I… fucked up and….”_ He made a pained sound. _“I can’t do this, I can’t.”_

“Breathe, Tony, it’s going to be okay.” Darcy dragged a hand over her face, slumping forward when light hands landed on her shoulders. Nat.

“Why don’t you just try… explaining why you can’t come home yet.”

 _“How would that help?”_ Tony snapped. _“I can’t come home, even though I really_ fucking _want to, because I think if I do I’m just going to slip again, and I_ can’t do that again.”

“Why not?” Darcy asked softly.

_“Because - because I should be able to do better!”_

“We love you regardless.”

 _“Because I don’t_ want _to be like that again!”_ Tony said harshly. _“I want to be better, damn it! I have to stay here until I_ know _I’ll be better!”_

“Stay where?”

 _“You know I’m in rehab, Darcy don’t-”_ He paused, breathing sharp and quick. _“Oh."_

She smiled a bit. “Yeah. Just… tell him you can’t come home yet, Tony. He’s just as afraid that you’re upset with him, as you are that he will be with you.”

 _“I highly doubt that,”_ Tony muttered, voice hoarse.

“After you talk to him, I’ll come and bring Marie for a visit, okay? So it won’t just be you and Steve at first, a buffer if you will.”

_“Sure. Okay.”_

“Now. Breathe, drink some water, comfort Peggy, and then… call Steve,” Darcy stated and she heard Tony give a shaky sigh.

 _“Okay. Okay,”_ Tony said and another shaky sigh.

Darcy waited. _“Thanks Darcy,”_ he whispered.

“You’re welcome Tones. Call or text me after you call Steve?” she asked.

 _“Yeah, yeah, I can… yeah, I’ll do that,”_ Tony answered.

“Okay. Talk to you soon Tones,” she stated.

 _“Talk to you soon,”_ Tony answered and hung up.

Darcy let out a long sigh as she hung up as well, leaning back into Nat’s hands. “Please tell me we aren’t this ridiculous,” she begged as Natasha began to massage down her spine, digging fingers into particularly troubling knots.

“You don’t think they are ridiculous, but we aren’t. We talk it out, but I think that comes from the fact we had a _much_ easier start. There was no… false starts between us, no masks, well not ones like Tony, and Steve, put on. There was really just us. Overall, while we both have nightmares, we don’t have all the other things they do. And if I ever get brainwashed, you’ll just shoot me through the heart with a tranq, like we practiced,” Natasha answered as she pressed a kiss to Darcy’s cheek.

“That is true. And Clint shoots you,” Darcy answered, turning to kiss Natasha back, humming appreciatively as Natasha began to press her back onto the couch.

And then a cry came from the back bedroom.

Darcy broke off the kiss with a low groan as Natasha began to laugh, pressing her forehead to Darcy’s collarbone. “Vagina blocked _again_ ,” she stated and Darcy smacked her shoulder.

“Let me up. And ask JARVIS if Bucky’s going to join us tonight,” she stated and Natasha sighed, pressing a kiss to Darcy’s neck before she sat up.

“Very well,” Natasha muttered and Darcy stood up, heading to Marie’s room, Natasha’s discontented mutters at her back.

~*~*~

Steve nearly jumped out of his skin when his phone rang, lunging for it and almost dropping it on the floor before he got it to his ear.

“Tony? Hello, Tony?”

_“...Steve.”_

“Tony,” Steve breathed. “I am so sorry I missed your call, I-”

 _“Lost your phone. Yeah. I, uh… heard. Your message_ _,_ ” he added quietly.

Steve swallowed, shifting so he was sitting more comfortably on the couch. He could hear Tony breathing, shaky, thick sounds like he’d been crying recently. Steve closed his eyes and breathed deeply.

“I’m sorry, Tony, for hurting you. For lashing-”

_“You, you said, you don’t have to-”_

“Tony,” Steve interrupted quietly. “I do.” When Tony didn’t say anything, just kept taking those thick, unsteady breaths, Steve continued. “I shouldn’t have lashed out at you. I was frustrated about Bucky’s situation, and I… I let it all build up. I knew if I did that I’d end up lashing out, and I let it happen anyway. That was….” He shook his head. “I shouldn’t have done that.”

_“I said things too, it wasn’t just… just you.”_

Steve smiled bitterly. “Yeah. But I started it, and I can’t blame you for fighting back.”

_“Steve, I… ”_

He sighed. “Then, to make it even worse, I chased you and-” He swallowed and it hurt, like there was a rock in his throat. “I am _so_ sorry that I reacted like that. I just, I got so _mad_ and I was only thinking that… that I wasn’t done talking to you, and it wasn’t fair that you got to go hide away and ignore me. I was being self-centered and immature, I am _so sorry_.” The last words broke on a sob.

 _“Steve… Steve, please, please don’t. Don’t... don’t cry, it’s okay_ _,”_ Tony said, sounding like he was going to start joining Steve.

“It’s not okay, Tony! What I did was not even remotely okay!”

 _“I… but I forgive you, okay, so, so it_ is _okay.”_

“That’s not how it works,” Steve protested, voice coming out nasally with how his nose had immediately clogged up. He swiped a hand over his eyes, blinking back more tears.

 _“Says who?”_ Tony muttered. Steve heard him sniff sharply. _“If I decide to forgive my… my boyfriend….”_

The way Tony trailed off, uncertain, broke Steve’s heart.

“Guess I should listen to my genius boyfriend, then,” he joked weakly.

It made Tony laugh still, a little hysterical, obviously relieved. _“Damn right_ _.”_ He breathed out, long and shaky, static in Steve’s ear. “ God, _I miss you.”_

“I miss you, too. So much Tony.” Steve wanted to ask where he had been, when he was coming home.

But he didn’t want to push. This had to be enough, to be done on Tony’s terms after Steve was the one to scare him away for so long. It’d been… four months?

God, he’d scared Tony so badly that Tony had willingly stayed away and missed most of Marie growing up so far. He felt sick and curled over himself, steadying his breathing to hold back more cries.

 _“Steve?”_ Tony asked cautiously.

“I’m here,” he croaked.

_“Don’t cry, we’ll… we’ll figure things out.”_

Tony was trying to _comfort_ Steve, when it should be the other way around. Steve should be soothing Tony, promising that.

“I’m so sorry,” he repeated.

_“I know you are. I’m sorry too.”_

For several minutes, neither of them said anything. Steve didn’t know what else to say, except to ask when Tony would be home. He was so damned lonely, and he… he wanted Tony, wanted to apologize to him and make sure Tony really did understand how sorry he was, cup Tony’s face in his hands and kiss him over and over again, gently, sweetly, in that way that made Tony go soft and happy.

He wanted to not sleep in an empty bed anymore.

Tony must have been thinking something similar, because he said, _“Fuck, I want to come_ home.”

His voice broke on the last word and Steve clutched the phone tightly.

“Tony-” he started.

_“But I can’t."_

Steve blinked, arm tightening around his middle. “Tony?”

_“I’m so sorry, Steve, but I can’t come home yet.”_

“I can… I can stay on my floor, Tony, we can take it slow,” he offered, hesitant and desperate to find some kind of compromise that meant Tony was home.

Tony made a pained sound, and Steve flinched.

 _“No, Steve - Steve it’s not because of you, I swear, if I could I’d be on a plane home right now but I_ can’t.”

“You - are you okay, is something wrong?” Steve straightened a bit. Had something happened? Was someone, somehow, keeping Tony from returning?

Bucky - the Soldier knew where Tony was. He had said repeatedly that Tony told him he didn’t ‘require extraction’ but what if that had changed…?

Tony laughed, a high, nervous sound. It only increased Steve’s concern.

“Tony?”

_“I can’t, I’m not ready yet. If I leave now I’m just… I have to make this stick this time Steve, okay? I have to stay here.”_

“Tony, I don’t understand,” Steve admitted. “Stay where?”

_“Silver Star Rehab Center.”_

Steve blinked, processing that, the quiet shame in Tony’s voice, and suddenly it clicked.

“Tony?” he asked quietly. “Are you okay? I mean - you didn’t get hurt or anything?”

 _“Hurt, I - no,”_ Tony said, sounding confused. Steve let out a breath of relief.

“They let you keep Peggy with you?” he asked next.

 _“...Yeah,”_ Tony said softly. “ _She’s been here with me. This place specifically lets - and encourages, if possible - bringing your pets.”_

Steve smiled. “I’m glad you’ve had her with you.”

 _“You’re….”_ Tony paused, then said, _“I’m sorry, for fucking up.”_

“Tony,” Steve breathed, closing his eyes. “Tony, I did the research, you know. People that try to go sober without professional help or a support group outside of family and friends don’t… typically last more than a few months. You made it a year, and I think your circumstances of slipping up are a little on the extraordinary side.”

_“I still-”_

“You made the hard decision,” Steve said. “I’m proud of you. I’m sorry you’ve had to do this without me. I should have been there for you.”

Tony was crying again, Steve was sure of it. “ _Steve… I miss you.”_

“I miss you too.”

There was silence for a while, just the sharing of breathing, the quiet on both sides. _“_ _I hope someone is checking on the bots. They get needy when left alone too long,”_ Tony stated.

“Darcy is, I think,” Steve answered. “I… haven’t been down there.”

 _“I’m sorry JARVIS gassed you,”_ Tony said hesitantly.

“I’m not,” Steve said firmly. “I’m glad that - I told you, I’m glad that plan was in place.

“Because Tony, there is no way you would have ever defended yourself against me if I was… you love me too much, I think. Even when you are angry, you lash out with words. I spent too long being the little guy and I forget I’m _not_ anymore,” Steve stated and let out a shaky sigh because that admission, that admission _hurt_ _._ Lots of the things he’d been admitting recently hurt, but that one… hurt a little bit more than the others.

There was a shaky sound at the other end and Steve leaned a little closer to the phone. _“I would have hit you with the repulsor,”_ Tony argued weakly.

“Not enough to stop me,” Steve murmured sadly.

“ _You wouldn’t have…”_ Tony continued, but even Steve could hear the way he paused, like he wasn’t as sure about it as he wanted to be, and it hurt because Steve wanted to say he wouldn’t have done anything, but….

 _“You would have scared me, maybe, but you’d not have_ hurt _me.”_ Tony’s voice went sharp and firm. _“I know you, Steve, if I’d have even hinted you were hurting me physically you’d have backed off faster than anything.”_

Steve swallowed. “You sure about that?”

_“Yes.”_

He smiled weakly. He’d do anything to be able to give Tony a hug right now, hold him close and tight, stroke his back, reassure him with more than words. “Can I come… visit?”

_“Yeah, yes, I’ll add your name to the list and - please.”_

“Okay. I’ll come see you as soon as I can.”


	17. Chapter 17

“So, you’re antsy today,” Paul noted.

“Yeah,” Tony admitted. “Guess so.”

Paul shifted to face him, his coffee in his hand, and leaned an elbow on the edge of the table. “So. What’s up?”

“Oh, nothing, nothing,” Tony muttered, glancing quickly at the clock on the wall.

Not quite nine yet.

“Just, you know, my boyfriend is visiting. For the first time.” He swallowed a huge gulp of coffee, feeling it burn down his throat. “Haven’t seen him since before I… came here.”

“Wow,” Paul murmured, giving him a look. “You sure you want to see him?”

“Yes,” Tony said, hands clenching around his coffee. “God, yes.” The only thing he wanted more, in that moment, was Bucky to remember again. Maybe to go home, too.

“So…” Paul reached out, squeezing Tony’s shoulder. “What time’s he supposed to get here?”

“Nine thirty,” Tony said, knee bouncing up and down. “But this is Steve, so he’ll probably be here sooner.”

Paul nodded calmly, sipping his coffee, staying calm at Tony’s side. When it was five minutes after nine, Tony leapt up and tossed the paper cup in the trash, giving an absent bye as he went. He rushed to collect Peggy before heading for the office.

Once there, he leaned against the wall, waiting, waiting.

Steve, Darcy, and Marie arrived ten minutes later.

Tony thought he was going to actually vibrate out of his skin. For a second he glanced at Darcy and Marie - and wow, she’d gotten _so big_ \- but then all his attention, every thought, was focused on Steve.

Steve shoved through the doors, slid around a person in his way, and _rushed_ Tony. Tony couldn’t help it - the sight of Steve rushing at him like that, it was too close to that night, and Tony tensed, eyes closed, flinching away a bit. He barely had time to do that, and then Steve collided into him.

He curled around Tony - arms around his waist and shoulders, head ducking over the top of his. Instantly, Tony relaxed, arms coming up and around Steve. Tony clutched back just as tightly, burying his face against Steve’s chest, nose tickling and tears in his eyes again.

Of course Steve wasn’t going to hurt him. Of course he wasn’t. Tony knew that, he _did._

 _“Tony_ _,”_ Steve breathed, fucking chanted over and over.

Tony’s fingers dug into Steve’s back.

They were rocking in place, almost swaying, and Tony thought he might be satisfied if he stayed like that for the entire day, for a week, hell, forever didn’t sound so bad. Steve was warm and smelled good and familiar, and held Tony perfectly - close but not restraining.

Eventually they did pull back. Steve chuckled wetly, wiping his palms over his face. His smile was gorgeous, and Tony almost reached up to pull him down, to kiss it. He shoved his hands in his pockets, swallowing, and watched as Steve crouched down, reaching out to rub his hands over Peggy’s fur. She took excited steps forward, tail going fast enough to move her entire back half, licking Steve with happy whines.

Darcy stopped next to Tony, smiling warmly. “Hey, Tones. Marie, say hi to your Uncle Tony.”

“Hey, sweetie,” Tony cooed, reaching out to stroke a finger down her arm. Marie babbled happily, grabbing his hand as he pulled it back and giving him a gummy smile, her bottom front teeth (and one top front tooth) showing.

Steve straightened, smiling brightly at Tony, his hand reaching out towards Tony’s. When Tony realized he was watching it (almost uneasily), he swallowed harshly and made himself not take the instinctive step back. (Steve wouldn’t hurt him, like others had, and Tony _knew_ that. He did.)

Steve slowly slipped his fingers between Tony’s and squeezed. Tony glanced up at him, hating that Steve looked sad, ridiculously relieved that he wasn’t angry. With a sigh, Tony leaned against Steve’s side. Oh, but he’d missed this. He _missed this._

Tony brought them out to one of the fields where Peggy could run around and there were benches for them to sit. Darcy settled Marie in her lap, facing outward. Peggy sniffed at her, curious, then licked the hand that reached out to grab at her.

“Peggy,” Steve called, and immediately Peggy was rushing over, pressing into Steve’s legs. Steve smiled, rubbing her behind the ears. Her tail was wagging so quickly, her entire back end was moving.

“There’s balls and frisbees in a bin over there,” Tony said, nodding his head towards the fence. “If you wanted to play with her.” For a moment, he felt guilty - like he’d been selfish to keep Peggy with him. She was as much Steve’s god as Tony’s, after all, and Steve had always been so active with her.

“Maybe in a bit,” Steve said. His focus was on Tony, though, and he was still smiling, staring at Tony like… like…. Tony didn’t really have the right words for it, but it was reassuring. There was no way Steve could look at him like _that_ and be second guessing not ending their relationship.

He brought Tony’s hand to his lips and kissed it, like a _super cliched dork_ , and Tony of course found it absolutely adorable, because he was ridiculously easy and gone on Steve.

“I love you. Thank you for trusting me with this,” Steve whispered against the shell of his ear.

Tony cleared his throat, leaning more fully against Steve’s side. “Love you too.”

*~*~*

Steve visited a week later, bringing food from Tony’s favorite burger joint and a bag of freshly made cookies from Darcy. This time, Tony didn’t flinch when Steve walked up and hugged him.

They went somewhere with tables and benches, like a picnic area at the park. Nearby was a fenced off area for people to play with their pets; someone had their dog out and was tossing a tennis ball.

“Where’s Peggy?” Steve asked curiously as they sat down, spreading the food out in front of them. Tony had brought some cold soda bottles with him to meet Steve, and he popped his open before answering.

“Paul’s watching her. He’s… a friend.”

Steve nodded. He felt painfully aware of when their knees brushed, like this was some first-time relationship, like they didn’t know each other inside and out so well.

He took a deep breath. “I wanted….” He trailed off, throat closing up. It wasn’t that he thought Tony would scoff about it - Tony would never; joke, sometimes when he shouldn’t, yes, but never scoff of belittle. It was just… hard to admit to. He understood why it perhaps had taken Tony some time to tell Steve where he was, besides the whole ‘Steve fucked up’ thing.

Tony was staring, a little curious, trying to hide his apprehension. Steve wished he could make Tony believe that he wasn’t going to get upset about that, that he wasn’t going to leave Tony over this. When Tony reached out and curled his hand around Steve’s, squeezing reassuringly, Steve swallowed.

“A few weeks after our fight, I moved in with Sam for a while.” He licked his lips, throat dry. “I was… I wasn’t okay,” he said, letting out a deep breath. He could admit that. “I was feeling pretty frustrated over Bucky’s situation and… and awful over the fight with you. I knew I wasn’t okay but didn’t know what to do about it except wait for it to go away,” he said quietly.

Since he’d moved into the Tower with Bucky, since their relationship had started, it hadn’t been so bad. It’d passed quickly when it had happened, but….

“I finally took Sam’s advice and… I’ve been talking to someone about it.”

He flicked a glance at Tony, but Tony was just watching him, attentive, a little concerned, thumb making little strokes back and forth over his knuckles. Steve smiled slightly.

“It’s… I’ve been doing better. It’s not so… I know what I can do now to help, when things aren’t….”

Tony raised their linked hands and kissed the back of Steve’s. “I’m proud of you,” he said simply. The same thing Steve had told Tony, weeks ago on the phone. It made him flush a bit.

They ate, talked about their friends for a while, both avoiding what they knew had to be discussed. Their relationship - how to repair what they’d damaged and move forward.

Tony licked chocolate off the tip of a finger before sighing. Steve reached out, hesitating and pulling back a bit when Tony did some kind of repressed twitch. For a moment, Tony looked furious - with himself, probably, or maybe with Steve for hesitating - but then he closed his eyes and took a deep breath.

“Right. Okay. I’m gonna do… that, sometimes. I know you’re not going to, to hurt me.” Tony stumbled a bit over the words and grimaced. “But it just… bad memories.”

Steve nodded, lips pursed. Most of Tony’s bad memories came from either Howard, or from Afghanistan. Steve was willing to bet his shield this time was Howard.

“But you still… I still want….” Tony made a frustrated sound.

“I want to touch, too,” Steve said after a moment, weighing things carefully. “But I’m… I’m gonna be a bit jumpy myself, that I’m going to push you. Scare you again,” he admitted. The memory of waking up in the hallway outside the lab and realizing just what he’d done, the sick feeling in his gut of guilt and fear - of himself and what he could do without thinking - was too clear in these kinds of moments. “So,” he said on a heavy sigh. “We’ll have to figure out some kind of middle ground.”

Tony was watching him from the corners of his eyes, arms crossed and acting like he was watching the two dogs in the fenced pen wrestle over the chew toy.

Steve didn’t know what to do here, hadn’t thought to talk to Dr. Nadia about this though maybe he should have. He’d talked about how to open a better line of communication with Tony, about Steve’s guilt, but not… not this.

Tony blew out a breath. “Fine. Compromise. Right. I… if I… just give me a moment.”

Slowly, Steve nodded. He tried not to listen to only what Tony was saying - also to what he was not saying, and to what he knew about Tony and everything else. “Okay. I won’t pull away, if that’s what you want.”

Thankfully, Tony looked relieved and nodded. “Good. I’ll… just wait for me to….” He lifted one hand to wave at his head before crossing his arms tightly over his chest again.

Steve slowly reached out and settled his arm over Tony’s shoulders, waited a moment, then pulled him close against his side. Kissing the top of his head, he murmured, “I can do that.”

Tony relaxed in small increments, until he was lax against Steve’s side, one hand rubbing up and down the opposite side of Steve’s torso, absently. Steve closed his eyes and let it just… settle, this feeling of contentment.

“If I ever do something to scare you, please tell me,” he asked, voice soft, pleading.

“Okay. You’ll tell me if I hurt you?”

“Yeah. And I won’t make it into a fight.”

“Try,” Tony said firmly, pulling back. Steve reluctantly let him go, and Tony stared at him sternly. “You’ll try not to. Can’t promise we’ll never fight Steve - we’re us - but we can… we can try to make sure we work things out better now.” He swallowed, licked his lips and looked down, shoulders almost hunching. “I love you, Steve. I want you to keep loving me. I want this to… to work.”

“So do I. And it will - we’re both going to try harder to do better. We’re not going to rely on Bucky to make sure we pull our heads out of our asses.”

“Do we tell him?” Tony asked. It startled Steve, seemed like an unexpected change of topic.

“We decided to-” Steve started to say, to remind Tony of way back when it became clear that Bucky didn’t remember. They’d decided there was no way either of them could continue a relationship with him, so they’d put it on hold. They’d thought they could stay together fine without him.

Steve thought maybe now they really could. They could adjust now, actually focus on one another and not expect someone else to mediate.

“Yeah, I know,” Tony interrupted, glancing up at him and then away again. “But… it’s been over half a year, Steve. Do we ever tell him about it? How long are we going to say he can’t consent, when he’s got enough autonomy to break rules and check on me?”

“He’s…” Steve shook his head. “I don’t know if that’s the same thing, Tony.”

For a while, Tony was quiet, then admitted, “Probably not. But I don’t… I’ll admit it, I can’t deal well always with keeping it separate in my head anymore. It was easier, in the beginning. But sometimes he acts almost like Bucky now, and I… I feel like I’m lying to him, Steve.”

“I know,” Steve said, voice hoarse. “I feel like I am too. Every time we go to the roof, every time I spend time just the two of us, it feels like I’m doing something underhanded and sneaky. But I think that’s why we should stick to what we decided - to not tell him until he remembers.”

Tony looked like he was going to argue, paused, and nodded, leaning forward against Steve again. “Okay,” he murmured. “Okay.”

When the quiet had gone on for a while, Steve cast around for a change of topic, some way of removing that sad look from Tony’s eyes.

“So Clint purposefully loses paintball matches against this group of kids every few weeks.”

Tony pulled back with a confused, slightly amused frown. “Why?”

Shrugging, Steve said, “To buy them lunch.”

Rolling his eyes, Tony muttered, “Dork.” But he was smiling fondly. “Always adopting strays.”

“Yeah.” Steve paused and tilted his head. “Hey. Do you think he considers all of us strays, too?”

Tony made a face. “Does that make him and Agent the parents? That’s weird, Steve. I’m forgetting you ever said something so ridiculous.”

Steve laughed, pulling Tony in again and tilting his chin up. Tony let him, accepted the kiss on his lips.

It felt, in that moment, like they’d always be okay, in the end.

*~*~*

Two weeks before Tony was planning on returning, he told Steve where he still had hidden stashes of alcohol, in the workshop, his office, and their floor.

Steve took that for what it was - a sign of trust and a request for it to be taken care of before he got back. There was a bottle of expensive looking vodka that he gave to Natasha, without explanation - though he thought she might have figured it out by now. The rest of it, though, Steve poured down the sink in their kitchen, glaring at it swirling down the drain. He rinsed out the bottles, then took them all the way down to the huge garbage bins for the Tower in the alley.

A few shattered when he threw them in there, and that was _very_ satisfying.

He was in the elevator when it occurred to him that… well, there was someone that needed to know.

He got off on Bucky’s floor, knocking and waiting for him to open the door. The Soldier stared at him from the other side, head tilting.

“Is there a mission?”

“No.” Steve shook his head, stepping inside and going to take a seat at the bar counter. He grabbed a pen that was sitting there, twirling it between his fingers.

“Uh, I have some information about Tony. Thought you’d appreciate, uh, an update.”

“Does the Mechanic require extraction?”

Steve smiled a bit at that. Tony had told him about Bucky’s impromptu visits and insistence on asking that. It had been clear that the visits had been as painful as they were good for Tony. In return, Steve had told Tony about the trips to the roof garden he took with the Soldier.

“No, he’s fine, he’s feeling better.” Steve paused. “He thinks he’ll be home soon. Two weeks, maybe.”

The Soldier shifted, surprise briefly on his face. “He is… repaired?”

“Yeah,” Steve said, swallowing. “For the most part, yeah. He’s going to need our support, it’s different here than there, but… he thinks he can do it now.”

The Soldier nodded, shifting on his feet. “And….”

Steve waited, but Bucky didn’t continue. He wasn’t too sure what he’d been going to ask - obviously, something about Tony. After a few minutes, Steve leaned forward. “Yeah?"

“Are things… functional between you two?” The Soldier frowned, looking unsatisfied.

“Tony and I have - _are_ \- working on things,” Steve said quietly. “But we’re doing better, yeah.” He ducked his head, breathing out shakily. “You’re not going to get this, but… we’re actually working on that communication thing you always harped on us about.”

The Soldier stared at him, head tilting, eyes narrowing. “I don't recall.”

“I know,” Steve sighed. He pushed to his feet, walking over and giving Bucky’s shoulder a cautious squeeze. It didn’t seem to upset him, but he didn’t respond to it, either. Steve smiled sadly. He was better than in the beginning - but nowhere near being himself again.

“I’ll let you know if things change,” he added as he headed out the door.

He felt Bucky’s eyes on his back until the door slid closed behind him.

*~*~*

“So, you and Steve are good?” Paul asked.

“Yeah,” Tony answered and looked over at Paul.

He hesitated and then held a phone he had asked Pepper to bring out to Paul. “My number’s the only number in there. Stark Phone, newest thing. You’re actually over 18, so I can give you something with my number in it,” Tony stated and Paul, carefully, took it from Tony’s hand.

Tony let out a surprised sound when he was suddenly hugged. “You take care of yourself out there Tony,” he muttered and Tony, hesitantly, hugged Paul back.

“You too,” Tony answered and Paul let out a little laugh at that.

“You should come by sometime - see Peggy, and meet Steve when things aren’t completely… crazy.”

“Is your life ever not crazy?” Paul asked, looking at him with a faint smile.

Tony shrugged - because Paul did have a point - and shuffled his feet a bit. He… he was nervous. About leaving. But also excited, because he was going home, and he was going to miss Paul, he liked Paul, but he was _going home._

Paul was smiling at him, knowing and kind of… longing. “Go home, Tony.”

“I’ll visit, if you like, and obviously you can call,” Tony said, reluctantly starting to leave. “I mean, anything you’ve got to say I’ve been there, probably gone through it, right? Been here for a while, I - I’d like to help if you need it.”

“Thanks,” Paul said quietly.

“And I’ll bring Peggy for a visit! She’d like that.”

“Sure.” Paul sounded amused.

“I’ll bring you some of Darcy’s baked goods, too, and let me tell you, they can buy you all kinds of favors and things - wow, now I made it sound like some prison black market deal, that’s not - I’m just saying, they are valuable and delicious.”

“Tony?”

“Yeah?”

Paul grinned. “Go home already.”

*~*~*

The Soldier looked up when the Voice called for his attention. Slowly, he lowered the weights back to the resting bar. He wiped a towel over his face and glanced upwards, waiting.

“I believe you would appreciate being informed of Sir’s arrival. He is currently on his floor, but will likely return to his workshop within the hour.”

The Soldier nodded. He had a few options now - he could see if the Voice would allow him onto the Mechanic’s floor, or he could return to his own floor, or he could wait in the workshop.

If he attempted to go to the Mechanic’s floor and was denied entry, the Voice might be required to inform the Director or Commander. However, the Voice believed the Mechanic would soon be in the workshop, so… that was where the Soldier would go. He would wait.

Hopefully, ascertaining himself that the Mechanic was still himself and… functional, would dispel the energy that had kept him unusually active the past day.

*~*~*

“Sir, Master James is in the workshop,” JARVIS announced quietly.

Tony looked away from Steve, who was ruffling Peggy’s ears on the other side of the couch. He considered the hallway that would lead to the stairs to his workshop. He had been planning on checking on the bots soon after getting back home, though he’d rather lost track of time and hadn’t actually done that yet. It was just - he’d put his clothes away in the room, while Steve had mumbled something about changing the sheets. (Which had distracted Tony, because it was domestic and Steve stretching out to fit the fresh sheets over the corners of the mattress had been _distracting_ sue him.)

Then Steve had asked if Tony was hungry, and they’d had lunch, and Peggy had been rushing around their floor like she had to make sure everything was how she remembered it or something. So Tony had figured they should calm her down and they’d sat on the couch and Steve had played with her a bit, tugging carefully at the other end of a rope until she’d seemed calmer, and Tony had just… kind of been watching them and…

He looked back over at Steve, realizing he was staring at Tony.

Steve swallowed and nodded. “Go,” he said. “I - he’s been worried about you. I shouldn’t have… I’m not going to say you can’t see him.” He looked down at his hands. “I shouldn’t have ever tried to do that.”

Tony took a quick breath, pushing aside the nervousness that had no reason being there, and stretched across the couch to kiss the side of Steve’s head.

“I’ll be back in a bit. Or if not, just come grab me. For dinner.” He glanced back, already halfway across the living room. “Really. Just… come get me.”

“Alright,” Steve agreed.

Tony might have hurried down the stairs a bit, not sure if the excitement he was feeling was to see his bots and his workshop again, or to see Bucky - the Soldier - outside of being questioned about extraction for brief, stolen moments.

JARVIS opened the doors for him and Tony stepped in, calling, “Daddy’s home!” even as the bots were already rushing him with ecstatic beeps and whistles.

He grinned, laughed, touching each of them and waiting for them to not be moving (he’d had his toes rolled over more times than he could count doing that) before wading forward. They kept crowded around him, Dum-E clinging to Tony’s shirt, You and Butterfingers almost right on top of him.

“I see you all got no work done,” he said. “Why do I even bother assigning any of you jobs, look at that table, is that-”

You and Butterfingers raced off to straighten up the table he’d been gesturing at, eager, but Dum-E just kept a tight hold of his shirt. Tony patted him reassuringly.

Finally, he looked up at the Soldier, sitting at the table where Tony usually worked on the arm.

Tony had no idea what to say. The quip on his tongue kind of just… died, leaving him standing there like an idiot.

The Soldier stood, walking over, eyes sharp as he scanned Tony. He moved more comfortably, seemed more… there, than the last time Tony had been in the Tower. Maybe he wasn’t; maybe it was just Tony’s stupid heart wishing for things, but he couldn’t help it.

“You are unharmed.”

“Yes,” Tony said with a sigh, rolling his eyes a bit. He was surrounded by mother-hens that refused to believe him when he told them there was nothing to worry about. “I’m fine.”

The Soldier nodded thoughtfully. “You are… repaired.”

“I... yes?” Tony hurried to explain when the Soldier narrowed his eyes. “I’m better, I promise, and they didn’t do anything to hurt me. I just… am not sure repaired would be the right word here, you know?” He licked his lips. “That’d imply I’m not going to fuck up again or struggle and I’m pretty sure I’m going to at least have a hard fucking time, especially the first gala or fundraising charity ball or whatever I’ll have to go to, those are hard enough with alcohol, without it I’m… I’m not really looking forward to that honestly, but-”

“You are functioning,” the Soldier supplied and Tony smiled.

“Yeah. I’m functioning,” Tony responded and the Soldier gave a nod, relaxing slightly as he did so.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So timeline wise this ends on the last few days of August (like around the 27). Marie is eight months old. Steve and Darcy's visit was like... July 20 or so.


	18. Chapter 18

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow, it has almost been a month. Talk about getting hit with the Real Life Curse.
> 
> Welp, we hope you enjoy.

Tony Stark breathed through his nose and out through his mouth as he bounced his leg in place.

The team had decided to throw an official ‘Welcome Back Tony’ party now. For some reason, this had meant that Bruce and Jane needed to _science cakes_ and he isn’t entirely sure why that was necessary.

It was just _cake_.

It wasn’t like it was impo-...

HIs thoughts derailed as thin fingers curled over his hands and his head snapped up to find himself staring at Jane, who smiled warmly at him. “Hey,” she greeted.

“Hey,” he croaked out.

“So, the party is in a little while,” Jane stated and Tony nodded a bit.

“Want me to fake being spacy and completely derail the party and turn it into an astro-physics party?” she asked and Tony let out a laugh, sharp and pained and too much and not enough all at once.

She ran her thumbs along his knuckles. “I can,” she said and Tony shook his head.

Jane smiled then and then stood up, tugging at his hands lightly. He followed her easily and then frowned.

“What is cake science?” he asked and Jane laughed as she began to pull him along after her.

“We make cakes and have a panel of tasting judges taste them. If they get turned away, we blow them up,” Jane answered and Tony laughed.

“Bruce makes the best explosions,” she added, eyes lighting up with infamous joy at the memory.

*~*~*

Bruce didn’t hesitate to hug Tony the moment he stepped into the common area where the party was being held, Tony immediately wiggling and complaining, right up until Thor wrapped his arms around _both_ of them and hauled them off their feet. “Tony, it is good to see you again my friend,” Thor rumbled as he carefully set them both back on the ground, Bruce straightening his glasses while Tony straightened his clothes with a huff.

“Yeah, yeah, missed you too Point-Break, but watch the clothes,” Tony complained and Thor laughed, not hesitating to clap his hand, gently, against Tony’s back.

“Of course,” he said with a mischievous smile on his face and Tony shot him a suspicious look that didn’t last when Jane reattached herself to him.

“Cake science!” she exclaimed and Tony found himself being dragged off once more, waving at Sam and Rhodey as he was dragged past them, Sam smiling and tipping his glass to Tony in a salute before he focused back on his conversation with Rhodey.

Tony narrowed his eyes at them, and then he was being forced to look away.

Those two were up to something and Tony was going to figure out what.

But later.

Right now, he was going to focus on performing cake science. “I only want to participate if I get to blow it up,” he argued and Jane laughed and nodded in agreement, Tony barely registering Natasha standing with Darcy, Marie on her hip before he was in the kitchen, Jane releasing him without hesitation to start on the cake science.

It was later, after the party had wound down, after it was cleaned up and put away and Tony was slumped in bed against Steve, that he realized there had been no alcohol.

He huffed a laugh against Steve’s shoulder and mumbled, “Making a dry dock won’t help.”

“Just for today. We’ll go back to normal after,” Steve answered, wrapping his arm around Tony, pulling him closer and Tony mumbled happily before he slipped into sleep, the soft blue light of the arc reactor muted against Steve’s chest.

*~*~*

It had just been a small villain - really, nothing that required calling in the whole team, and between Tony and Clint it had been easily taken care of. Minimal injuries. Clint’s ankle was sprained, but that was because he was a dumbass. And okay, sure, the suit was pretty beat up, but Tony had known it could take a little explosion like that, and it was their best bet to contain the blast. Really.

“Sir, Captain Rogers appears to be waiting for you at the landing strip,” JARVIS said, voice edged. “Perhaps it would be best for you to come directly to the workshop instead.”

Tony rolled his eyes. “Pretty sure that’s not something I should be doing anymore. Trying to do better here, remember?”

“And while I commend these efforts at improving your communication skills, Sir, my priority is your safety. Captain Rogers appears to be rather angry, therefore, I think-”

“Sorry, J, but no.” Tony took a deep breath. “It’ll be fine.”

It would be - therefore, his hands had no reason to be shaking.

Steve was indeed at the landing strip patio, pacing back and forth. He was wearing the workout clothes he wore when training baby agents - and Tony was glad Steve had found something to do that he enjoyed that wasn’t just fighting bad guys, and Steve really _did_ enjoy training the baby agents - and his hands were on his hips.

Tony grimaced as he landed, letting the faceplate retract and immediately calling, “Clint and I totally handled it.”

Steve just stared, expression flat and unimpressed.

Swallowing, Tony walked along, letting the suit be deconstructed around him, and came to a stop in front of Steve, shoving his hands into the pockets of the sleep pants he’d been wearing when the call had come in.

“See? One piece, no reason to wo-”

“You-” Steve stopped, jaw clenching as he ground his teeth. He took a deep breath and said more quietly but still tight with anger, “Did you even try to think of any other plans?”

“Of course I did!” Tony snapped, arms crossing. He glared at Steve. “That was the best-”

“It was not the best plan!” Steve said, voice edging close to a yell.

Tony tensed, fighting the urge to flinch and step backwards quickly. He clenched his jaw against all the nasty things crowding on his tongue - things that were only meant to hurt and push away - and stared at the floor until he thought he had it under control.

“It really was, Steve. Least chance of casualties, and structural damage to the city. I could have tried flying it into the air, but the debris could have landed pretty far, and the blast might have knocked out the suit’s flight-”

“The blast did enough damage on the ground!” Steve shouted. He sucked in a deep breath, and when Tony looked up, Steve didn’t look angry anymore - he just looked scared. “Tony… hell, it damaged the suit and threw you across the street into a building wall.”

Tony grimaced. Shrugged. “The suit could take it.”

“I don’t-!” Steve started to yell, looking angry again. He stopped abruptly when Tony flinched. Steve took two quick steps back, turning around and dragging his hands through his hair.

Swallowing, Tony croaked, “Fifteen minute break?”

Steve was still for a long moment, then nodded. “Yeah.” He sucked in a deep breath and blew it out sharply. “Kitchen table?”

“Sounds good,” Tony said. Immediately he turned and marched inside, heading for the workshop. He’d use the shower down there to wash up and change quickly, then meet Steve in the kitchen.

It ended up being closer to twenty - only because Tony had maybe been a bit more sore once the shower had relaxed his muscles than he’d expected, so getting dressed had… taken a little longer.

“Sorry, didn’t mean to take so long,” he said as soon as he spotted Steve in the kitchen.

He looked calmer, changed out of his workout clothes into a pair of sweats and the corny tourist-y Iron Man shirt Bucky had bought Steve for Christmas the previous year. Tony had a Captain America one, which he’d easily admit was one of his favorites to wear.

Steve smiled over his shoulder at Tony, sticking a mug in the microwave. “It’s alright, Tony. It’s just a few minutes.”

What little tension Tony had felt creeping into his shoulders bled away. He leaned against the counter next to Steve and tentatively reached out, brushing Steve’s fingers. Steve twisted his hand so that he could grab Tony’s, linking their fingers and squeezing lightly.

The microwave beeped, and Steve took out the mug, passing it to Tony. He set a second one Tony hadn’t noticed inside and they waited in silence while that heated up, too. It could have been tense - maybe was, a little - but Tony wasn’t as worried as he might have been. Steve’s thumb kept brushing back and forth over the back of his hand.

Gathering his mug, Steve led the way to the kitchen table. They sat down, letting go of each other’s hands, but shifted so they were facing each other.

“Alright,” Steve said on a deep sigh. “I… I’m not _mad_ at you. I’m sorry that I yelled earlier, made it seem like I was. But I’m not.”

Tony nodded. “Okay,” he said quietly. “But you’re upset with me.”

Steve grimaced. “Yeah… a bit.”

Tony took a deep breath. “Why?”

Grabbing his mug, Steve took a long sip before setting it on the table and pushing it aside. He leaned forward, hands clasped between his knees, staring at the floor. Tony made himself sit there quietly and wait - not push, or try to figure it out before Steve even said something.

“You scared me,” Steve started slowly. “I mean, I’m always worried about you - about everyone on the team, of course, but you….” He paused, brows furrowing. “Sometimes your plans scare me, Tony.”

“I… I don’t….” Tony wasn’t sure how to reply to that - apologize? Defend his plans? It didn’t feel like Steve was attacking, didn’t even sound like it, or even accusing Tony of something. He didn’t know what this was just yet.

Steve glanced up at him and smiled wanly. “It’s not your fault,” he said quietly. “It’s just….” He straightened quickly, blowing out a breath. “Alright, you said that throwing yourself on top of the bomb to contain the blast was the best plan, right?”

“Right,” Tony said slowly. “Less damage to property and chance of civilian casualties.”

“Right,” Steve said, nodding. “But it increased the chances of harm to you.”

“I know the suit-”

“I know. I know you do,” Steve agreed. “But-” His voice broke and he paused. Tony’s hands twitched with the need to touch him, reassure him somehow.

“Tony, I’m not ever going to think that a plan is better if it puts you in more danger - suit or no.”

“Steve,” Tony said softly, a bit helplessly. Steve just gave him another one of those little wane smiles, all sad and resigned. Tony got out of his chair, only to climb right onto Steve’s lap. It was awkward in the kitchen chairs and a bit uncomfortable, but Steve’s hand settled on his lower back, steadying him.

“I know… I know I can be reckless. With myself. I’ve been trying to do better on that,” he said quietly, running the fingers of one hand through Steve’s hair, the other settled on Steve’s shoulder for better balance.

Steve turned his head and kissed the inside of Tony’s forearm. “I know.”

“I can’t promise… none of us can,” Tony said, a bit helplessly.

“Yeah,” Steve sighed. He leaned forward, head tucking on Tony’s shoulder close to his neck. “I know.”

“I promise I will never needlessly put myself in more danger. Not if there’s a way to avoid it,” Tony tried. It felt a bit like a lie - but it was the best way Tony could think of to phrase it, to promise Steve that he’d never _choose_ to put himself in danger when it wasn’t necessary.

For a while, Steve didn’t say anything.

“I love you.”

Tony turned his head, kissing Steve’s hair. “I know you do. I love you too, Steve.”

*~*~*

Steve leaned against the wall of the hole-in-the-wall cafe the kids had chosen this week and watched Clint clap shoulders and accept the good-natured ribbing. He waved when a few of them called out farewells to him. Soon Clint wandered over to him, and Steve pushed off of the wall to follow as they made their way down the street.

“You’re going with Nat to check out that base in London tonight, right?”

“Yup,” Steve said. It was a cooler day than they’d been having, with the faintest bit of a cool breeze as the afternoon shifted towards evening. “We’re heading out about 9:30.”

Clint nodded. Steve waited, because he suspected Clint had some point to bringing it up. “I’ve been put on Darcy duty,” he said, almost sagely.

Steve raised a brow. “Darcy duty.”

“Yeah. You know - keep an eye on her for Nat, make sure to help out with Marie even when Darcy claims she’s got it as she stares at you with that scary wild-eyed look of hers? That one. Last time I even got her to take a nap; Nat was very impressed.”

“Oh was she,” Steve chuckled.

“This time I’m going to see if I can’t get her to leave the Tower to do something not related to baby or work. She needs to unwind, you know? Pretty sure this has been getting to her just as much as the rest of us, but she’s not admitting to it.”

Frowning, Steve said, “She okay?”

“Yeah,” Clint said immediately - honestly, which let Steve relax a bit. “Just needs to be nudged into taking some me-time, is all.”

They reached the car and Steve was quiet as he contemplated the conversation. It still seemed like there had been something he’d wanted to tell Steve, but while Clint could be straightforward, sometimes he would do the same thing Natasha did, skirting around a topic, waiting for a specific conclusion to be drawn.

Steve couldn’t quite figure it out.

Clint didn’t say anything more until they pulled into the Tower’s garage. He parked and turned the car off before twisting to face Steve with an almost soundless sigh. “Natasha just likes to know someone’s keeping an eye on Darcy,” he said, pointedly.

Steve stared… and then suddenly got it and scowled. “Tony can take care of himself, Clint.”

“Yeah, sure,” Clint agreed. Steve couldn’t tell if he was just saying that or really believed it. His scowl deepened. “But this is the first mission you’ve been out on that’s a few days since he got back, yeah? Can’t hurt to have some extra eyes on him.”

“I’m not setting you up to spy on him.”

“I wouldn’t be spying on him - and I’m busy with Darcy duty, so I couldn’t for you anyway. But you could ask-”

“Clint,” Steve said seriously. “I get you mean well, but stop.” He got out of the car, making sure not to slam the door, and went to the elevator.

“Whichever floor Tony’s on, please,” Steve murmured to JARVIS, before leaning back and closing his eyes. Hopefully he could recenter himself and get rid of the somewhat irrational anger burning in him during the elevator ride.

JARVIS didn’t reply and it took a few long moments for the elevator to start moving. Probably checking with Tony if it was okay.

He didn’t feel much better by the time the elevator stopped at the workshop floor. Steve went searching for Tony, finding him underneath one of the cars, Peggy sitting in the back seat. She looked up and wagged at the sight of him.

After a moment of standing at Tony’s side, waiting - not sure he could speak without sounding angry, not sure what to say about it - Tony rolled out from under the car. His smile faded and he sat up, frowning.

“Steve?”

He folded to the floor, curling forward and dragging his hands through his hair.

“Steve? What’s wrong?” Tony asked, just a little slowly, uncertainly, and it made Steve tighten his grip in his hair.

“I’m not mad at you,” he said instantly.

He was a bit surprised when Tony said, “I know,” and looked up at him. Tony grinned wryly. “Strange as it is, I don’t always think everything has to do with me.”

“That’s not exactly funny,” Steve protested, brows furrowing.

“Eh.” Tony shrugged. “You want to tell me what’s up? You’re usually in a better mood after a day out with Clint.” His brows raised - probably because Steve was scowling again. “What did birdbrain do to put that look on your face?”

Steve chewed on the words for a moment, rolling around how to say it before just repeating the whole thing - the weird conversation to what Clint had said in the garage. Tony listened with his head tilted a bit to one side, attention never deviating from Steve. Not even when Peggy hopped out of the car and stepped between them, demanding pets. Tony merely craned a bit to keep his eyes on Steve’s and absently rubbed her ears.

Steve slid his fingers into her fur, too. It was silky - a bit shorter than the other day, so she must have been to the groomers earlier.

“Okay,” Tony said simply at the end, and then nothing else. He was frowning a bit, but not like he was necessarily upset. Thinking, maybe.

“Pretty sure Clint didn’t mean it badly,” Tony said eventually. “Probably a bit worried I’ll fall back into a bottle with-”

“He should have more faith in you,” Steve interrupted furiously.

Tony grinned at him, laughing a bit.

“I’m serious,” Steve said, frowning. “Tony,” he said - he did not whine when Tony only laughed more.

Waving at him, Tony leaned forward, shaking his head a bit and laughter dying into chuckles. “I’m sorry. Steve.” He laughed a bit again, but looked back up. “Steve,” he said with another laugh, reaching out and holding Steve’s face between his hands. He planted a kiss on Steve’s lips, quick and happy. Then another. “Steve, honey, don’t pout, I’m not laughing at you I’m-” Another kiss.

“What’s so funny then?” Steve asked, licking his lips.

Tony shook his head, still grinning, but Steve noticed that his eyes were shining, wet.

“Tony?”

He chuckled again, blinking a few times, and leaned forward for another kiss. “You’re just… amazing. You know that, right?”

Steve wasn’t sure how to answer that - he wasn’t that great, and he didn’t see how Tony thinking he was amazing had to do with any of this, with the conversation or the laughter or the way it was clear that Tony was tearing up for some reason - and he knew that trying to reciprocate the sentiment wasn’t going to work with Tony. Sometimes he could manage it, but this didn’t feel like one of those times.

“Clint’s just trying to look out for me, for us, in his weird spy way.”

Steve grimaced, nose scrunching. “You don’t need a babysitter. And if you had a hard time, you’d know to go to someone.”

“Right,” Tony said, with another helpless looking grin, blinking rapidly some more. “Right,” he repeated.

Steve reached up, waiting the moment when Tony’s eyes flickered to his hand and then back to his before touching Tony’s cheek. He rubbed his thumb under Tony’s eye, where it felt a little damp. “What is it?” he murmured.

“You… your faith in people just….” Tony swallowed, eyes darting up as he blinked some more. “Your faith in me….”

This time Steve stretched forward and kissed him.

“Is that the only reason you’re upset?” Tony asked, quiet and close to Steve’s mouth. Steve’s expression must have done something, because Tony asked, “What else?”

“Just….” Steve huffed. “I was fine. I wasn’t worried at all, Tony.”

“And now you’ll keep thinking about it.”

“Which is stupid,” Steve grumbled. “I don’t think you need someone spying on you, or looking out for you, or-”

“Pretty sure Natasha knows Darcy doesn’t. She doesn’t do it for Darcy, she does it for her peace of mind,” Tony said, in one of those moments that always startled Steve for how insightful they were.

“I shouldn’t be worried - I wasn’t worried.”

“I don’t mind if you’re worried, Steve,” Tony said with a small smile. “You-” Another of those chuckles. “You’ve been perfectly clear in how much trust you have in me.”

“I do trust you,” Steve sighed, leaning that inch forward for another kiss. Maybe they could go upstairs for a while, before Steve had to leave. That’d be nice.

“I know,” Tony said, sighing contently. “But you can ask someone to check up on me, if it’ll help.”

Steve pulled back a bit, frowning. He was hesitant to agree, but also reluctant to turn down that suggestion. “Not Clint. Or Darcy,” he said slowly.

Tony shrugged. “Phil’s going with you and Natasha, so he’s out. You could ask Jane or Bruce maybe. Rhodey, if he’s not busy already. Not Thor, though, please.”

Steve grinned. “Okay. Not Thor.” He had an idea; he’d ask before leaving. “Want to help me pack?” he offered.

Tony eyed him, smile slowly curling at the corners of his mouth, crinkling his eyes. “Like you weren’t packed this morning. Sure, Cap. Let’s go… _pack_.”

*~*~*

Steve knocked on the door and waited a few moments before entering. Bucky - the Soldier never gave permission, but Steve always knocked and waited a moment anyway.

He was standing in the middle of the room, though Steve could see a book flipped open on the couch. In a quick glance, the Soldier took him in and said, “Is there a mission?”

“No,” Steve started to say, then changed it to, “Yes.”

The Soldier raised a brow at him, a hint of judgment there. Steve rolled his eyes.

“No, you’re not coming on my mission. But… I have a favor to ask. A mission of sorts.”

Head tilting, he asked, “What is it?”

God, he sounded so much close to Bucky in that moment, the words almost loose and easy. He had very little expression though, and the contrast was such an old hurt at this point that Steve barely noticed it.

“Tony’s… I….” Steve paused, took a breath and took a moment to order what he wanted to say in his head before speaking again. “This is the first time since he’s gotten back that we’ll be apart for so long. He said if I wanted, I could ask someone to check up on him, keep an eye out for him.”

“You would like me to… monitor the Mechanic,” the Soldier said slowly.

“That’s as good a word for it as any, I guess,” Steve said a bit helplessly.

After a moment, he nodded. “I can do that.”

“Great,” Steve said with relief. “Thanks Buck.” He hurried out the door - he’d be a few minutes late meeting Natasha, but knowing that Bucky’d be keeping an eye on Tony was a bigger relief than he’d expected.

He’d already proved to be good at looking out for him, even in as the Soldier. In this place almost between the two? Steve trusted him to pick up on not just the obvious tells.

*~*~*

“Darcy,” Jane exclaimed and Darcy nearly dropped her armload of papers.

With Phil gone and doing overseas work, sort-of, with Steve and Natasha, she found herself having to do a lot more leg-work, as it were. Mostly with just moving things to Phil’s desk instead of sending them there with some poor intern.

“Jane!” Darcy said, dropping the armload onto Phil’s desk before she rushed back out and happily hugged Jane.

She squeaked when she suddenly found herself lifted up with Jane into a large, all-encompassing hug by Thor. She didn’t hesitate to wrap an arm around Thor and let out a surprised squeal when she was spun around. “Darcy, Darcy, there’s an _astronomy dining experience_!” Jane squealed as they were, carefully, settled on their feet and Darcy squealed with Jane, letting Thor go to grasp at Jane’s hands.

The pair bounced in place and Jane tugged at Darcy. “We have reservations for three, let’s go!” Jane demanded, already starting to drag her off.

“Wait, what?” Darcy asked.

“Lady Darcy, it is most true. Originally we were going to go with Bucky, as he was most excited, however, as it has opened and he has not… returned to us, we wished to ask you,” Thor said and Darcy frowned a little.

Jane turned big, wide, eyes to Darcy and Darcy laughed. “I did want to go, but the opening week was all filled up, reservations wise. All right, I’ll come. But we have to be back before three. That’s when Marie is going to be returned to me,” Darcy said and both Jane and Thor nodded enthusiastically.

The restaurant was dark, but not night-dark, allowing people to move easily. The stars danced above them and Jane babbled excitedly over the various differences in the stars, pointing out various cosmic moments and Darcy grinned brightly, happily connecting it together with things Jane could use.

Thor spent the entire meal smiling at Jane’s excited self, the scientist barely remember to eat between words.

Darcy, however, loved it and relaxed entirely, enjoying the warm atmosphere and the scientific babble that filled the air, something she had desperately missed since… since she couldn’t remember when.

Darcy blinked a bit and then chuckled. “We should make this a monthly thing,” she stated and Jane laughed.

“Yes,” she agreed as Thor said, “Verily.”

Darcy smiled and when she picked up Marie, she felt at ease, happily pressing a kiss to Marie’s cheek as her baby girl giggled.

*~*~*

Darcy chewed on her bottom lip, glancing over at the happily babbling Marie who was playing with Clint, before she glanced back at Sam. “I… I don’t know Sam,” she muttered and he reached out, gently rubbing her upper arms with his hands.

“Look, you are a first time mom. Shit, I’ve seen that with some of my vets. First time moms who just throw themselves into being moms. Which is good, it is great, but sometimes they forget that sometimes, they need to be themselves. You have a _whole Tower_ of people, and Clint, willing to watch your baby for you for a few hours. I bet it would knock the socks off of Natasha if she saw you all dolled up,” Sam stated and Darcy snorted with laughter.

“Dolled up? Have you been talking to Steve?” she asked.

“I’ve been watching old movies. He was watching _Singing in the Rain_ once, and I got hooked. He is a menace to my life,” Sam retorted.

Darcy laughed a little and let her eyes slide nervously over to Marie. “Hey, I’ll be here. I promise you, I’ll be here. I’ll help Clint. I’m good with kids, I swear to you,” Sam stated and she shifted a bit before she gave in.

“Yeah, all right,” she muttered.

“Great. You have an appointment at a spa in an hour. Say your good-byes, grab your purse, and get going,” Sam said.

“Wait, what?” she stuttered out.

Oh, yeah, Rhodey was right. She needed a me-time with Pepper if he was able to wrong-foot her. Everyone knew who really ran the Stark Industries Information and Resource Center and it wasn’t Phil Coulson.

It was Darcy Lewis, and everyone, from janitor to Maria Hill knew it. Above her, was Darcy Lewis and Phil Coulson and they had no idea, not really.

Sam smiled. “Rhodey and I have been planning with Pepper since we knew Tony was going to be coming home. So, hurry up and get moving,” Sam said, carefully shifting to push her towards Marie.

Darcy was in a bit of a daze as she said goodbye to Marie, who babbled and gave her a kiss on the cheek, grabbed her purse and was in the elevator, heading down to where Rhodey, with Pepper, was ready to sweep her away.

“Mission Accomplished, Mister Wilson,” JARVIS stated and Sam nodded before he turned to the little blanket and pillow play pen, taking off his boots before he joined them in play, Marie _shrieking_ with excitement over the fact she had two people to play with.

*~*~*

The Captain hadn’t been gone for long, but the Soldier didn’t waste much time before going to monitor the Mechanic. He wasn’t in the workshop, but the Voice took him to another floor, where the Soldier found the Mechanic slumped over a bowl of unappetizing appearing cereal.

He had a black tank top on and baggy flannel pants that were clearly too big for him. There was a faint, faded bruise on his shoulder, likely from the mission he’d been on not too long ago. The Voice had assured the Soldier that the Engineer had returned and been in acceptable functioning parameters. It was… good to be able to confirm that.

Seeming to decide that he was not in fact going to eat the cereal, the Mechanic stood with the bowl in hand. He startled when he turned and caught sight of the Soldier, though not badly enough to spill or drop the bowl.

“Jesus, don’t do that!” He put the bowl in the sink and turned, arms almost crossing over his chest before he dropped them. It was clear he was trying to seem relaxed. The Soldier considered him carefully.

“You should eat,” he said.

“Breakfast isn’t really my-”

The Soldier narrowed his eyes a bit, and the Mechanic sighed, rolling his eyes so he was staring away, grumbling “Fine, jeez, mother-hen away.”

He considered Dr. Stark before deciding that he was not truly upset by this, and went to grab eggs from the fridge. There were plenty of them.

He set a pan on the stove and heated it, grabbed a bowl and began cracking the eggs. He dug milk from the back of the fridge to add a bit, some salt and pepper, and began to whisk.

The Mechanic watched him from the corner of an eye the whole time. He didn’t look angry, or worried, but there was something to his expression that made the Soldier think he was sad. Lonely, perhaps. Eventually, as the scrambled eggs were almost finished, he moved to grab two mugs from the cupboard above the counter and filled them with coffee.

The Soldier served the finished eggs onto two plates. When he turned to give one to the Mechanic, he was there, offering one of the coffee cups.

Carefully, he took it. The Mechanic smiled, an oddly pained looking one, and leaned back against the counter, sipping his own.

“Let me guess. Steve asked you to check on me? Captain Rogers, I mean,” he said quickly.

The Soldier knew Captain Rogers was Steve, there’d been no need to clarify. He didn’t say so, though.

“He said you had agreed,” he said, pushing one of the plates over to the Mechanic.

He hummed, glancing at the plate, and reached out to pick up a bite between two fingers. “I did,” he said absently, eyes that kind of unfocused the Soldier recognized from times in the workshop, when the Mechanic was lost in thought. Tilting his head back, the Mechanic lifted the bite in his fingers and dropped it into his mouth, which gave the Soldier a view of his neck.

There was a dark bruise there. High up, near his jaw and ear.

Without processing what he was doing, the Soldier almost reached out to touch it.

He stopped himself before he did, or Tony noticed, but his heart was racing with… with something that felt intense. Like a memory just out of reach, right at his fingertips. It had happened before - it happened all the time, and he knew that reaching for it, straining to grasp it, wouldn’t help but….

“What?” Tony asked, frowning a bit. “What’s the look for?”

The Soldier bit back a sigh as the memory slipped away, as they always seemed to. The Mechanic had another bite of eggs held between his fingers.

“Do you require a fork?” he asked.

Glancing down at his hand in something like surprise, the Mechanic said, “Oh. Huh. I guess, yeah.”

The Soldier went to the pull out drawer and grabbed one, handing it over. There was another of the looks on the Mechanic’s face - pained and - _longing_. That was it.

“I’ll just eat in the workshop,” the Mechanic said, voice a bit hoarse. He swallowed, and the Soldier found himself looking at the bruise on his neck again.

He did not follow the Mechanic.

He did not know if he’d be able to stop himself from touching it.

He couldn’t help imagining putting his mouth on it, though. It was enough of an unusual thought that the Soldier decided it best to retreat to his floor and find a distraction.

*~*~*

Tony felt restless. And it wasn’t that he was craving a drink or anything, but he wasn’t sure he wouldn’t eventually if he stayed by himself up on the floor. So, since Steve had apparently had the brilliant idea of making the Soldier watch Tony while he was gone, Tony told himself it’d only be logical to go bother him.

It was a bad idea, and he knew that, because watching Bu- the Soldier move around the kitchen so easily had hurt. He’d known where everything was, from the pans to the forks, but he didn’t remember _them_. It’d been so fucking long, and Tony… well, he really wanted Bucky back.

Hell, he’d have killed for a goddamn _hug_ from Bucky right then.

It was a bit of a surprise to not see the Soldier standing waiting where he usually was when someone visited his floor. Tony frowned a bit, glancing around as he wandered farther forward, and spotted him in the kitchen.

Tony hesitated.

“The Voice said you haven’t eaten dinner.” The look he got was almost… _scolding_.

Yeah, _bad_ fucking idea, Stark.

“I think I’m actually going to-” He didn’t finish the sentence, just bolted.

It wasn’t Bucky. It wasn’t. He didn’t remember any of them, even if he still acted so fucking much _like_ Bucky sometimes. He didn’t know them - didn’t care because he loved Tony, he was caring because Steve had told him to, to make sure Tony was okay. And the Soldier has his schedule thing, which included times to eat. Tony remembered Natasha talking about how they’d had to include it because he wouldn’t, otherwise.

The Soldier was just making sure Tony followed a similar schedule. It wasn’t any kind of actual care.

So why had he kept checking on Tony while he’d been in rehab?

Well, okay, maybe checking on was a bit of a misstatement. He’d asked if Tony needed extraction. Maybe that was part of the Soldier’s programming, to assure the safety of handlers or whatever. That’d make more sense, wouldn’t it?

Tony shouldn’t have gone to visit. He’d known it’d only hurt and he’d done it anyway and now he…

“Shit, fuck, _shit_ ,” he muttered, sliding to the floor and curling over his knees. Peggy wandered over a few minutes later, whining and licking at his arms.

Tony thought it’d be great if he could just stop _feeling_ everything for a little bit. Or at least feel something else.

Which was part of that slippery slope to wanting a drink.

At some point Peggy left, only to come back a few minutes later. Tony could hear her come close, the soft sound of her claws on the hall floor. He didn’t expect a hand to touch his shoulder, slide up and towards the base of his neck.

Startled, Tony jerked his head up and away, staring at Buck- the Soldier crouched in front of him.

Blue-grey eyes scanned him with an intense focus. “Something is wrong,” he said quietly. “What?”

Tony swallowed - his throat felt dry - and then licked his lips. “I… Steve. I need to talk to Steve.”

*~*~*

The dog stayed nearby his side, though her attention was focused on the Mechanic. He was outside on the balcony, pacing back and forth in obvious distress. One hand held a phone pressed to his ear, the other was constantly moving - either dragging through his hair or waving energetically.

He tried to figure out what was bothering the Mechanic, but he couldn’t. It made him frustrated, and aware that he likely did not have all the details. It seemed clear from the request to speak to the Captain and the mark on his neck that their personal relationship had likely resumed, but was not the cause of the distress.

The Soldier wondered what other reasons there could be. Both times had seemed to happen while he had been preparing the Mechanic food. Perhaps the cause was there?

His attention sharpened back on Tony when he abruptly stilled. The dog as well seemed to feel the impending sense of _something_ , because she shifted more upright and forward, tail stilling.

The Mechanic sobbed, hand clapping over his mouth. The Soldier had to halt his movement forward. What he had planned to do, he was unsure, simply that he had wanted to be outside with the Mechanic. His distress was… upsetting.

The next few minutes, he seemed to regain composure. Tony nodded a few times, rubbed his eyes, and at the end cracked a smile and what was possibly a laugh. He stayed outside for almost two minutes after he lowered the phone before coming back indoors.

The dog rushed up and over to his side; the Mechanic patted her head absently and gave the Soldier a tired kind of smile.

“Sorry. I’m… I didn’t expect to…” He grimaced, nose scrunching, and reached up to rub at his neck.

The Soldier flicked a glance to the mark and then focused back on the Mechanic’s eyes.

“Was the Captain able to help?” he asked.

Nodding, the Mechanic said, “Yeah. Yeah, he was.”

“Good,” the Soldier said with a faint sigh. “You should eat dinner now.”

The Mechanic burst out laughing, though the Soldier couldn’t figure out why.

“Alright, fine. I’ll eat.”

*~*~*

The Soldier frowned when Clint carefully grabbed his arm and moved over to the side. He tilted his head slightly and he saw the archer mutter more than he heard it. The Soldier tilted his head to wait and the man carefully grabbed onto his wrist.

“I need you to do me a favor,” he stated and the Soldier tilted his head.

“Look, you know how I watch out for the Commander? Generally because I am just… she’s the scariest, but also the one I worry about almost the most,” he questioned and the Soldier nodded.

“If you’re here and the whole team is out, can you stick with her? Something that has a full-team call, in the city… I need you to watch out for Marie, and her. Mostly Marie though. Because the Commander once tazed Thor and hit him with a car. I’m not that worried about her, but if she’s… if she’s focused on Marie, she might miss something and she’ll get hurt. So… if we’re out and you’re not, could you stick with them? Protect them, but if it is a choice between her and Marie, pick Marie?” Clint asked and the Soldier stared before he nodded, once.

“Thanks,” Hawkeye stated and turned on his heel, walking off as if he hadn’t just asked the Soldier for a favor.

The Soldier frowned slightly and then shrugged a little and went back to his route to the training floor.


	19. Chapter 19

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh look special guest appearances. ;)
> 
> (I think my homework tried to drown me this weekend, btw, so it's good we had this one ready to go from last weekend! Just had to do a quick read-through.)

Tony watched Marie, on her hands and knees on the ground, rock herself back and forwards, like she was gearing up to crawl, but not actually moving. After a bit of this, she just kind of settled back and stared across the floor at one of her toys.

She stretched a hand out for it, making insistent babbles that Tony decided were orders to bring her said toy before she decided to cry.

“Here,” he said, stretching for it and placing it close enough for her to grab. She did with a smile and more babbles, shifting so she was sitting and sticking the toy into her mouth.

“Shouldn’t she be able to crawl now?” Tony called.

“Soon,” Darcy called back from the kitchen. “Some babies just skip crawling and go straight to walking.”

“Perhaps she will follow the same school of thought as you, Sir,” JARVIS piped up in his ‘I’m being helpful’ tone that meant he was really being a little shit.

Tony cast a suspicious glance at the ceiling. “I don’t know what you’re talkin-”

JARVIS helpfully played a recording of Tony’s own voice saying ‘sometimes you have to run before you can walk’ back to him.

Darcy cracked up. Marie, who had been staring around the room while JARVIS spoke, focused on Tony at the recording and made more of that demanding babble.

“No, I’m a bad example, don’t listen to JARVIS,” Tony said seriously. “No running before walking. Or walking before crawling. I’m sure that leads to more injuries.”

Marie tossed aside her toy and did her little… rocking not-crawl in his direction. She started looking frustrated and like she was going to cry, which, yeah, Tony wasn’t equipped to deal with that without panicking. So he picked her up, leaning back against the side of the couch and bringing his knees up. He leaned her back against his thighs, making faces at her.

Giggling and smiling widely, Marie stretched out a little hand for the reactor.

“That is not a night-light,” he said. “Though,” he whispered, “I think Steve might argue otherwise. He told me he missed it while I was gone.”

Growing bored when she couldn’t reach the light, Marie instead grabbed the watch on his wrist and leaned over to plant her mouth over it.

Tony sighed. He’d thought Darcy had been _exaggerating_ about the ‘everything goes in the mouth’ thing. He reached out and slapped a hand around until he felt one of her toys and picked it up. Of course it was the blue Bucky Bear. She squealed excitedly and grabbed it with both hands, yanking it from him with surprising baby strength.

One of the ears went in her mouth.

“Bear ears aren’t tasty,” Tony said, trying to, gently, pry it out of her mouth, only for her to whine and dig her teeth into the ear.

“Fine, all right, bear ear is a delicacy in baby land,” he grumbled good-naturedly, keeping his voice light and happy, which had Marie giggling around her mouthful.

“Were that said in any other fashion, knives, knives would be found,” Natasha stated and Tony startled slightly, turning to stare up at Natasha, whose hair was wet and half-plastered to her skull still, wearing loose fitting lounge wear, and smiling a little.

“Oh?” Tony asked as Marie began to make whining sounds and reach for Natasha, even as she refused to let go of the Bucky Bear in any way, shape, or form.

Natasha soothed at her in Russian and reached over, bopping her on the nose. “No, no, stay with Uncle Tony. I’m going to go torment the mother who gave birth to you,” Natasha stated and pressed a kiss to Marie’s forehead, then her cheek, and then as much as she could reach without having to use Tony for support, which had Marie squealing with laughter, Bucky Bear falling to the blanket below them.

Natasha hummed, murmured more soothing words in Russian, and then she focused on Tony. “She been good?” she asked.

“Yeah. Perfect. Trying to devour her Bucky Bear,” Tony said and Marie babbled, making an ‘oo’ sound twice before wiggling.

Tony didn’t hesitate to let her grab at his fingers, thankful he had cleaned them off of every single _speck_ of oil and dirt and other… things, especially when she shoved his fingers into her mouth to chew on.

“Ow,” he said. “That is cannibalism, Marie, which is frowned upon in most societies,” Tony argued as he carefully tried to extract his fingers from her mouth, which only earned a high-pitched whine.

“Okay, this can be acceptable in the Tower. Natasha, we’re going to have to come up with a suitable explanation as to why I suddenly have no fingers,” he stated and Natasha snorted a bit and suddenly, she kissed his cheek.

He felt himself flush. “Of course, Антон,” Natasha responded and then stood up, all lethal grace, and walked off to the kitchen.

Tony, still red-faced, focused on Marie, even when Darcy let out a startled, happy, squeal, followed by a shout of, “Natasha!”

He was sure that Darcy was spinning Natasha around right now and he hummed as he finally got his fingers free of Marie’s mouth and pressed a kiss to her forehead.

“I would let you eat my fingers really, you know,” he whispered all too quietly, and she whined demandingly for the Bucky Bear.

He handed it to her.

“Every single finger, if you really needed to,” he finished and gently rubbed his nose against hers, ignoring how the Bucky Bear was shoved against his face, wet ear and all.

She giggled and he made dramatic spitting noises to get the fake fur out of his mouth, long out it was gone. She kicked him a little and he smiled, still holding her, even as Darcy and Natasha came back out. The four of them had a picnic on the floor of the living room, Marie covering herself, the Bucky Bear, and Tony in baby cereal and bananas.

“You are so lucky I love you,” he stated brightly and Marie giggled madly while Darcy snorted a little. Natasha leaned over to press a kiss to Darcy’s neck, earning a scandalized, “Natasha, the baby is right _there!”_

Tony chuckled and worked on trying to clean at least Marie up a bit before giving it up as a lost cause.

Well, that is what baths were for.

*~*~*

When the call to Assemble went out, Phil was still overseas and everyone cleared to take care of Marie was going out on call. “Dung, mushrooms, stepping on a lego brick!” Darcy cursed as she hefted Marie onto her hip, bag in hand as she bolted for the Control Center, pausing only to press a kiss to Natasha’s cheek as she ran up there, already having JARVIS relay her orders as she moved, on the elevator and heading up.

The Control Center was practically a hurricane of activity. “What in the name of heavens are we facing? Also, remind Thor to keep his thunderstorms away from HQ! And someone get me a headset!” Darcy ordered as she moved, carefully bouncing Marie as she made her way to the ‘Fury spot’, having one screen go to baby distraction.

Marie seemed much more eager to look around as Commander Hill handed her a headset, Darcy thanking her before asking if she wanted to hit the ground or if she wanted to take over. “Ground. I do better there than in the sky,” Commander Hill stated and Darcy nodded.

“Go. Hawkeye, eyes on high, what you got?” Darcy demanded, even as information began to fill her screens, Darcy bouncing Marie on her hip as she began to sort through it.

 _“Commander Lewis, good to hear you on the comms. Uh… portals? Very unstable portals,”_ Clint reported.

“Expected that much sooner,” she muttered as she began to poke and channel information, barking out orders and coordinates, feeding information to relevant teams as agents focused on clearing out civilians knew what to keep an eye out for.

The silence that overtook the Control Center caused Darcy to turn to the door and then she huffed, focusing back on the screens. “Soldier, you’ll not be needed on the Avengers’ Mission,” she stated as she bounced a babbling Marie.

 _“The Soldier is in the Control Center?”_ Steve demanded.

“Yes he is Captain. Widow, there’s a portal opening up about ten feet from you, three feet above your head. See if throwing something at it will disrupt it,” Darcy stated.

 _“It might make it explode_ _,”_ Natasha warned.

“Wouldn’t be a surprise at this point,” Darcy stated as she continued to flick information to relevant parties.

She felt a presence come up behind her, and a quick glance revealed it to be the Soldier, but she was focused on her information. “Agents on civilian clearing duty, keep them _out_ of the subway! A portal just opened up and a rhino like thing just charged through. It didn’t like the electricity on the tracks,” she called as she focused above ground again, delegating the task of clearing out the world under their feet out.

“Agents, civilians filming. Get them off the street,” Darcy called before she flicked it away.

 _“Darcy, we got a problem,”_ Tony called.

“We have many Iron Man, narrow it down a bit,” Darcy answered.

 _“The portals are unstable right? Well, the ones that don’t have anything coming out of it? Are a one way trip through it,”_ Tony stated.

“Please tell me you discovered that by throwing a rock and not flying through the portal,” Darcy stated, even as she flicked things and pulled up Iron Man’s specs.

 _“Would I still be able to talk to you that way?”_ Tony asked.

“The portals are still open here Tony,” Darcy answered.

 _“I did not fly through it_ _,”_ Tony stated.

“Are you - fudge monkey, Clint your six! - lying to me Iron Man?” Darcy responded.

 _“Never,”_ Tony responded.

“Good, let’s see if we can figure out if any two are connected so anyone who falls through can be rescued. And maybe, just maybe, get a jump on these things, wouldn’t that be nice?” Darcy demanded and called out a warning to Steve two seconds later.

“Commander Hill, two o’clock! Agent Dorsay, take over monitoring Commander Hill! Flick information to me, Iron Man don’t you _dare_ test out the portal theory I just came up with, just scan it! Thor, we need a thunderstorm, let’s see if that makes them unstable enough not to form in the first place, Hawkeye, keep the Hulk away from the portals,” Darcy stated and then sighed.

“Agent Powell, take over for Avengers,” she ordered and a man taller than Bucky and heavyset stepped up as she slipped away, handing the headset over to him.

Before she could pick up the bag, the Soldier picked it up and handed it to her. “Thank you Soldier,” she stated and quickly headed for the nearest phone.

She pulled a toy out of the bag giving it to Marie before she picked up the phone, dialing quickly.

 _“Xavier’s Institute for the Gifted, this is Logan. What do ya want?”_ Logan greeted on the fourth ring.

“Hello, Logan, so nice to hear your sweet and dulcet tones. This is Commander Darcy Lewis, can you please connect me to Headmaster Xavier please? Thank you,” Darcy stated and bounced Marie on her hip.

_“I ain’t sweet and dulcet cupcake. And aren’t you on maternity leave?”_

“Well, you are a piece of rock candy, so there,” Darcy retorted.

 _“You got the kid on yer hip don’t you? And Commander Darcy Lewis, must be official like. Always nice to hear from you on the down-low like that,”_ Logan responded.

“Yes, well, I find you pleasant too Logan, _especially_ when you transfer me to Headmaster Xavier,” Darcy answered and glanced over at the Soldier, noticing how he kept her shielded, before she focused on the phone.

 _“I hear ya cupcake. Hey, Chuck, Darcy for you,”_ Logan shouted.

“You are a regular Prince Charming Logan,” Darcy stated.

 _“Don’t spread that around cupcake,”_ Logan stated, even as Xavier picked up the phone with a simple, _“Thank you Logan. Mrs. Lewis, how may I assist you today?”_

 _“Commander Lewis right now, Chuck,”_ Logan interjected.

 _“Thank you Logan,”_ Xavier stated and Darcy smirked.

“I need to borrow Kurt Wagner,” she stated and she felt Bucky shift.

 _“Anyone else?”_ Xavier asked.

“Well, if you wish to help the Avengers out, I would greatly appreciate it. We could use weather support, as well as some heavy hitters. The things coming through these portals don’t like to stay down. I want to say they are from alternate universes as the giant bugs just keel over dead in our atmosphere, but I don’t think we’re that lucky,” Darcy stated.

 _“I can send a small team. Which will include weather support and Logan,”_ Xavier answered.

 _"Thanks Chuck,”_ Logan stated.

“Now Logan, how will you keep up what you do if you don’t get to practice. I’ll give the warning. And I’ll have Commander Hill activate the jammer to take down the free press,” Darcy stated.

 _“I appreciate it Commander Lewis. I must say you are far more understanding than your predecessor,”_ Xavier answered.

“Of course Headmaster Xavier. I shall see you at our next security counseling meeting,” Darcy stated.

 _“Thank you, Mrs. Lewis,”_ Xavier stated and Darcy hung up.

“We’re getting X-Backup, so send out the warning and tell Commander Hill to start up the jammers!” Darcy shouted and Marie whimpered.

Darcy bounced her on her hip as Bucky handed her her bag and Darcy glanced at him. “Am I your mission Soldier?” she asked.

“To insure you remain alive, Commander,” the Soldier responded.

“Carry on,” she stated and began to walk back to her position before she paused and glanced at him. “Marie is your priority, correct?” she inquired.

“Affirmative, Commander,” the Soldier stated and she smiled at him.

“Good,” she stated and took back over for Agent Powell, headset back.

“Back Avengers. Widow, please don’t tell me you just electrocuted a dead bug to blow it up,” Darcy stated.

 _“I won’t tell you then,”_ Natasha answered.

“You’re hilarious darling. And heads-up, X-Help is coming in, so jammers are going to give us static. Hawkeye, do you have your _secure_ sunglasses?” Darcy stated.

 _“Aye, aye, Darcy,”_ Hawkeye answered as she began to flick things across her screens.

“And we have portals coming up on five streets. Captain, three up the block from you, Thor, one below you, and… Hawkeye, one behind you,” Darcy rattled off as she felt herself calling out orders once more.

Delegating got harder as more portals opened up and the jammers activated as Kurt Wagner, as Nightcrawler, ported onto the screen. “And someone get the X-Help into our channels,” she called.

 _“Done Commander Lewis!”_ Commander Hill confirmed.

 _“Here cupcake,”_ Logan stated.

“Go do what you do best,” Darcy stated as she continued to call out orders and call signs, bouncing a slightly fussy Marie.

“Portal at… oh, shit,” Darcy called and the Soldier moved, covering her, Marie tucked between them as a portal roared to life in the middle of the control center.

 _“Darcy?”_ Natasha shouted.

“Eyes on your mess! A portal’s opened in Command Central! Agent Powell, get a lock on the source!” Darcy shouted back and Marie began to make little wail sounds while Darcy reached out and hit the evacuation button.

“Secondary control! Send it!” Darcy shouted as she felt the Soldier begin to move them, twisting and firing with a gun she didn’t have (huh, he was carrying weapons) and moving them out.

Darcy held Marie closer, shushing her gently as they quickly retreated, heading for Secondary Control.

*~*~*

“Commander Lewis?” an agent, Agent Richardson, stated.

“Yes Agent Richardson?” Darcy responded as she began to focus on sending out information as Marie ate her lunch.

“The Soldier is a weapon,” he stated.

“So’s Phil. Your point Agent?” Darcy demanded.

He never had a chance to answer before there was another portal opening, the Soldier moving to cover her once more.

*~*~*

“Commander Lewis, the center of this mess is the Baxter Building,” Powell stated in the bunker they’d been forced to retreat to.

It was a last ditch plan after discovering that the portals couldn’t open in a sealed situation. Such as a bank vault.

Cleaned constantly and kept in tip-top condition, it barely had enough room to hold the needed computers, let alone the needed personnel. And it was obvious the Soldier was just not going to leave Darcy - in fact he looked particularly on edge - so they put all multi-purpose personnel and the rest were released to hit the ground.

At least it had air filters and was easy to keep cool.

“Lovely, of course. Get… science people there,” Darcy ordered tiredly, her headset long abandoned and ordering with her limited scope via text to the other Commanders, which included Steve and Tony.

“Yes Commander Lewis,” Agent Powell stated and Darcy sighed as she settled on her chair, the Soldier at her shoulder as she continued to type one handed, sending off what she knew to who could run with it.

*~*~*

The portals were closing down, one by one, and enough time had passed since one had opened that the Commander had declared it was safe to leave their bunker.

The Soldier kept close to her as they left, glad to be out of there. Agents were carrying equipment, the Commander was still typing one-handed at her cell phone and holding the baby to her hip with the other. He picked up the bag for the baby, handing it to the Commander who took it idly, and he followed, constantly scanning their surroundings. Just in case.

“Ah,” the Commander said as they came upon a crowd of people - agents and people the Soldier did not know. “Hold her for a sec, I need to go yell at Richards.”

She dropped the baby in his arms and stalked off, yelling before she even reached the crowd, making several of them grin excitedly, some back away hurriedly, and one man look both afraid and angry.

Absently, the Soldier shifted his grip on the baby and kept an eye on that man - who seemed to be the one the Commander was yelling at, so… Richards.

A little fist tugged his hair, pulling his head slightly to the side.

He glanced at the baby, who let go and began babbling more.

...The Commander had left him alone with her baby.

Quickly glancing around - some agents were focused on him with an aggressive intensity, others seemed completely oblivious - the Soldier began shifting back, farther from the center of everything. The baby yanked his head again, still babbling, and he reached up to untangle her fingers from his hair.

“No,” he said.

More people - unfamiliar and agents and there was Widow, who looked around after seeing Commander until she saw the Soldier with the baby. He thought, for a moment, that she would come and remove the baby from him, but instead she just _grinned_ and went to the Commander.

The Soldier narrowed his eyes a bit.

The others were showing up now, Hawkeye and Thor, the Captain and Falcon, Dr.s Banner and Foster… the Mechanic, in his bright suit of armor.

Dr. Foster all but leapt forward into the group around Richards, looking surprisingly vicious. Thor laughed loudly and waded in after her.

Captain Rogers was meeting with one of the unfamiliar others, a large man with a casual air of command, the others moving off to other people and places and-

The Mechanic came over to him, stopping in front of him and saying in a mechanical voice, “Darce left you with Marie?” He flipped up the faceplate, revealing a bright grin - and a slightly bloody cut in the center of a bruise on his cheek. The Soldier frowned, even as Stark cooed at the baby and wiggled metal fingers at her.

She made a happy noise, grabbing them and babbling enthusiastically.

“If I didn’t think your mama would kill me for it - okay, both of them actually - I’d make you your own, JARVIS-run suit to play with.”

Faintly, the Soldier could hear the Voice speak from the inside of the suit. “I commend your survival instincts in this case, Sir.”

The Mechanic looked at the Soldier, eyes sharp as they scanned his face and then swept down his body - looking for injuries, the Soldier decided.

“You-”

“Tony, don’t think I’m unaware of how close to that portal you got!” the Commander said, appearing behind the Mechanic, without the baby bag, and making him jump slightly. She crossed her arms, eyes narrowed sharply.

“I did what you said - I didn’t go through it but we needed-”

“Nope,” she said. “No excuses right now. I’ll listen to your, undoubtedly convincing, logic later. Right now, I think I’m allowed to be a bit annoyed, especially since half the portals _didn’t_ open up at another point.”

Iron Man shrugged.

Sighing, the Commander hugged him, arms wrapping around the suit for a moment before she stepped back. “Nat’s got the baby’s bag, we’re all heading back to the Tower now for debrief.”

“Does that mean that-”

“Yes, Tony, Logan is coming too.”

“Great. He’s going to complain that I didn’t send him the good scotch when I threw everything out,” the Mechanic… whined, but there was a playful light in his eyes. “And he’s going to stink up the place with a cigar, and-”

“He knows there’s no smoking around the baby,” the Commander interrupted. “Come on.” She turned, leading the way to where vans waited, leaving the Soldier holding the baby.

Why hadn’t she taken her baby back? Why leave the baby with the Soldier?

Stark grinned at him, soft and reassuring. “C’mon, before we get stuck with Logan in the same car as us. He’s going to want to test his claws against your arm, and honestly I’d rather not. He’ll just end up complaining when you punch his ugly mug in.”

The Soldier nodded, which had Marie tugging at his hair again, babbling happily, before going, “Boo-boo!”

Tony stilled and stared at Marie while the Soldier frowned at the small child, who tugged at his hair again. “Boo-boo,” she squealed and the Soldier hummed tunelessly, even as he carefully had her release his hair.

“Yes,” the Soldier responded softly and shifted her closer, following after the Commander.

“Boo-boo, Boo-boo,” Marie chattered and the Soldier nodded as he walked to where Darcy was waiting for them.

“We have a carseat,” Darcy stated as the Widow watched.

“Boo-boo!” Marie cheered and Darcy smiled.

“Yeah, that’s your word,” the Commander stated.

“When did this start?” Stark demanded, bouncing a bit on his suited feet.

“Two days ago? At first I thought it was babble, but nope, it is an actual word. Which she uses for teddy bears and Soldier alike it seems,” Darcy stated and Tony narrowed his eyes slightly at her in what the Soldier considered a suspicious stare.

It held no heat for it to be considered a glare.

“Are they those… _special_ bears?” Tony asked.

“You mean the ones you bought as a joke to tease Steve and… you know who with? Why yes,” the Commander answered and Tony stared before he gave her a smile.

It was an honest one, if shaky and almost… broken, but it was honest and Darcy reached out to gently squeeze a gauntleted hand. “He’s gonna love that, you know,” Tony stated and Darcy nodded while the Soldier frowned and then made a low sound when Marie tugged at his hair again.

“Boo-boo!” she demanded.

The Soldier carefully removed her fingers from his hair. “Ow. No,” he stated and she blew a raspberry at him.

The Soldier felt himself give her a quick smile, felt the muscles work before it was gone again and Marie giggled and wiggled in his arms. “Boo-boo,” she stated and the Commander nodded inside.

“Let’s get her in Soldier,” she stated and the Soldier followed her in, even as Tony said he would meet them at the Tower.

The faceplate went down and the Soldier ducked into the van, settling Marie into the carseat. He conceded the middle spot to Darcy, but he sat next to her, ignoring Widow’s raised eyebrow. “I think he’s on a protective kick,” Darcy offered softly, even as she made sure Marie was secure.

Marie was babbling pointlessly now and Darcy was responding politely. The Soldier kept an eye on the pair while also on outside the van. The Commander seemed to relax and Widow was taking apart, cleaning, and putting back together a series of guns while an agent drove them.

“Debriefing is going to be fun. Nat, could you please go ahead to remind Logan why smoking is not permitted?” the Commander called as Marie reached for her hair, grabbing it.

She yanked hard enough to pull the Commander’s head down, Darcy yelping with slight pain and the Soldier frowned. He reached over, to carefully and gently pry Marie’s hand off Darcy’s hair. “No. You’re hurting your mother,” the Soldier scolded softly and Marie blew a raspberry at him.

“You are,” the Soldier stated and Darcy chuckled as she carefully pulled her hair over her shoulder, away from Marie.

Marie gripped his metal fingers, cooing at them and the Soldier looked forward again, hoping that the Widow wasn’t going to remove his head for being so close to Darcy. The Widow, however, seemed content, even as she sharpened her knives. “I think I’ll take out an eye this time,” she stated.

“Well, it grows back. Just… not in front of the baby,” Darcy responded.

“Grows back?” the Soldier asked.

“Logan is able to heal from all wounds. Which is why he isn’t dead from adamantium poisoning,” the Commander answered as Marie babbled.

“Well, you tell the Soldier all about it,” she stated.

“Boo-boo,” Marie stated and he nodded.

“Naturally,” he responded.

Marie babbled and the Soldier gave a small smile as the van came to a stop. “Let me make sure there’s no smoking,” Natasha said a bit too gleefully.

“Not in front of the baby,” Darcy responded as Marie babbled.

“Of course,” Widow agreed and was out of the van.

“Oh _Lo_ gan!” she called and Darcy sighed, even as she focused on Marie, who was babbling still.

“Oh yeah?” she questioned and the Soldier sat back, looking out in time to see Natasha stab a heavy-set, short, man in the neck.

*~*~*

“Stop whining,” Darcy ordered as she settled Marie on her hip.

“Cupcake, you may be a mother now, but you didn’t have to sic your little woman on me,” Logan grumbled.

“You were smoking on Stark property. That’s not allowed. There are minors that live on it,” Darcy responded.

“And I’m no one’s little woman,” Natasha said warningly, twirling her knife.

“Yeah, yeah, yeah,” Logan grumbled, even as Nightcrawler made his way over to Darcy.

The Soldier frowned sharply and crossed his arms, which had the blue demon looking man back off slightly.

“Soldier, Kurt’s safe,” Darcy stated and Nightcrawler smiled a bit, showing off his fangs briefly before he made his way over to Marie.

“Hello Little One. You take after your mother,” Kurt greeted in German and Marie yawned at him.

He chuckled, his tail twisting lazily through the air, and Marie blew a raspberry before she buried her head into Darcy’s shoulder. “Naptime,” Darcy stated, even as she took a seat at the head of the table, Kurt very obviously wanting to hold Marie.

Darcy smiled and patted his shoulder. “Next time I need a babysitter, I’ll call you,” she stated and Kurt smiled before he hopped onto a chair and sat politely, even as Logan slumped.

“Please sit up dear,” Ororo murmured.

Darcy smiled. “Everyone here?” she asked sweetly as Sue Storm yanked Reed Richards into his seat.

“We are,” Ben Grimm stated as Johnny Storm bounced excitedly at on the balls of his feet.

“Good then. Let’s start the debrief,” Darcy stated as JARVIS brought up all relevant information.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am too tired to go check, but I'd say we've got only about five or so chapters left folks!


	20. Chapter 20

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Kinda a short one, but hey, more interactions among superheroes! lol

Tony hated debriefs, they always led to more arguments than anyone expected and left him with a headache and a bad mood. This time hadn’t been as bad solely for the fact that each time voices had started to raise, Natasha had cleared her throat and glanced pointedly at the sleeping Marie.

Granted, the Soldier glaring at whoever was starting to get loud until they apologized (and usually sat down again) probably helped too.

Tony wondered how many of them didn’t realize that the true danger was Darcy, there. If anyone had woken Marie, he was sure they’d have all found out, though.

He was in the middle of aggravating Logan - it was fun, and it wasn’t like Logan didn’t give as good as he gave; they were both assholes - when he noticed Richards walking away from the door.

Which, wrong. Richards was to immediately leave, it was the deal Steve had made with Sue after that whole… alternate universe problem almost two years ago. Richards did not spend more time around them than absolutely necessary. Sue, though, was busy talking with Ororo and Natasha.

Richards was heading straight for Bucky.

Normally, Tony wouldn’t worry, but… well, either the Soldier would stand there and allow Richards to be an ass, or the Soldier would kill him. And while Tony definitely didn’t think he’d exactly mourn the latter happening, he was pretty sure that if - _when_ \- Bucky came back to himself, he’d be upset about that.

“What the hell are you daydreaming about now?” Logan grunted.

“Richards’ death,” Tony answered absently, eyes narrowing as Richards started talking to Bucky, who stood there stiffly. Richards reached out, touching the arm, and that was - _no_.

Tony was marching over before he could even think it through, shrugging off Steve’s hand on his arm and ignoring his questioning tone. The closer he got, the more he could make out what Richards was saying - tests, of course, on Bucky, on the make-up of the arm to compare it to something he’d found from a HYDRA base in some other multiverse….

Tony yanked Richards back, getting right between him and the Soldier, and shoved.

“Lay off!” he snarled.

“Stark. I was merely once again requesting that-”

“You leave him the _fuck_ alone, you _know_ why you shouldn’t be fucking asking him now! You - you goddamn conniving-”

“What I found needs study!” Richards argued. “I need to know if HYDRA has that level of technology here, if they can cause that kind of destruction in our world, and Barnes’ arm is-”

Tony didn’t realized he’d punched him, not until his fingers started aching and Richards hit the ground. Someone grabbed Tony’s arms when he moved to keep going at him, holding him back, so he had to settle for spitting the most vile curses he knew at the man, pulling from every language he knew.

Logan appeared, yanking Richards roughly to his feet. Richards rubbed his throat, trying to talk and grimacing.

“What the hell is going on here?” Sue demanded.

Tony struggled more when Richards pointed an accusing finger at him, and then at his throat.

“I’m gonna fucking-”

“Tony,” Steve said, quiet but commanding. Tony ground his teeth together but stopped talking. He stopped trying to pull away, too, but didn’t relax back and didn’t stop glaring at Richards.

“Dr. Richards,” Steve said, and Tony grinned sharply when Richards paled a bit. “I think it best you leave the premises. Attempting to take advantage of one of our own-”

“I wasn’t going to take advantage of his altered mental state. I was merely going to-”

“Reed, stop talking,” Sue suggested quietly.

“Seriously, pal,” Logan added, giving him a dirty look.

“This is important!” Richards argued. “That world I pulled the device from was controlled by HYDRA! If their tech is as advanced as the HYDRA in our world, we could be facing the same fate!”

“So you ask for my notes, you don’t fucking _corner my goddamn boyfriend and-”_

“Tony!” Natasha said sharply.

_“-try to trick him into letting you experiment on him like a-”_

Steve stepped between them, hands on Tony’s shoulders and leaning over to look into his eyes, conveniently blocking his view of Richards. “Tony, hey. Deep breaths. You kept that from happening, you need to calm down right now.”

“He-”

“I know,” Steve said, voice dropping dangerously. “And I’ll escort him out and make it clear he’s not welcome back. But I need you to calm down. Please.”

Tony sucked in a deep breath, then another, and nodded tersely.

“Good. Thank you.” Steve kissed his forehead before pulling away, turning to Richards as he straightened threateningly.

“I can hold Marie if you want to use that,” Kurt offered in the sudden silence.

“Thank you,” Darcy said calmly, passing a restless, half-awake Marie over to Kurt before pointing her taser at Richards. “I am using this as soon as we won’t have to drag your body out when I do.”

Tony watched as Steve and Logan marched Richards out between them, Sue following behind them with Darcy and apologizing sincerely. She looked rather embarrassed and horrified.

Richards definitely didn’t deserve that woman, Tony thought not for the first time.

It was quiet for a long moment after the group disappeared.

“Well,” Ororo sighed. “Good to know that the school isn’t actually the most crazy place to live.”

Clint snorted. “You have _no_ idea.”

Natasha glanced behind Tony and then focused on him. “Are you going to stay here and not run to punch Richards some more?”

Tony gave her an annoyed look. She nodded, glancing behind him again. “Release him.”

Tony became very aware that one of the hands curled around his arm was not flesh, was in fact very familiar metal. Bucky - the _Soldier’s_ grip flexed for a moment, before slowly falling away. Tony stared hard at the floor, suspecting he was turning red (people were still staring, he could tell, and he’d gone and - oh fuck, no wonder Natasha had snapped at him), and marched straight out of the debrief room to the elevator.

“JARVIS, lock the workshop to anyone except those with high overrides.”

“Yes, Sir,” JARVIS said, only hesitating for a moment. “Shall I inform Captain Rogers or-”

“No, he’ll want to check on things there. He’ll… if he wants to he’ll find me.” He hoped Steve wasn’t mad. He didn’t think Steve had seemed upset with him for doing what they’d all agreed at the start not to do. But then again, there had been Richards to focus on at the time. Once that was out of the way and Steve had a moment to process, he might - rightfully - be annoyed with Tony for letting the cat out of the bag in front of Bu- ...the Soldier.

Peggy looked up when he walked through the living room, hurrying after him as he headed down the stairs. He let her in ahead of him before locking the workshop behind himself. He fell onto the couch and let her crawl up into his lap, focusing entirely on her and not how badly he might have fucked up, and how much that made him want….

No. He wasn’t going to. There wasn’t anything to drink down here but water, anyway. And coffee.

“Miss his coffees,” Tony murmured into Peggy’s fur. “And his hugs. And - and him in bed with us and - god I miss him,” he admitted.

Peggy gave a little whine and wiggled, Tony pulling her closer. “I miss him so much Peggy,” he whispered and she gave a little whine.

“Yeah, I know. You miss him too,” he whispered and carefully laid down on the couch, Peggy staring at him with big eyes as he scratched behind her ears.

“Everyone does. Except Marie, who only knows the Soldier, but that’s HYDRA’s fault. Stupid HYDRA. I’m going to gut them next time I see them. That should stop their cut off one head bullshit,” Tony grumbled and buried his face into Peggy’s fur, doing his best not to think too much on what HYDRA took from them all.

*~*~*

“Richards looks hilarious while being tasered. We should hit him with lightning next time,” Darcy stated as she returned, accepting Marie back from Kurt.

“I shall see what I can do,” Ororo stated as Logan walked back in, rolling his shoulders.

“I could just….”

“No Logan,” Ororo interrupted and smiled at them.

“If we may?” she questioned and Darcy nodded.

“We have what we need. Thank you for the help,” Darcy stated as Kurt let Marie reach for his tail, tugging it out of reach carefully.

“It was no trouble,” Kurt stated and Logan nodded.

“No problem cupcake,” he stated and Ororo sighed softly.

“Our students have more maturity,” she murmured and Darcy smiled.

“I would commiserate, but I’m at about the same level of maturity. I got to shock Richards with a Lewis Special,” Darcy answered as Marie giggled, grabbing Kurt’s tail. He chuckled and, carefully, tugged his tail free. Marie blew a raspberry.

“Bring her about some time Cupcake. We got more than a few kids that need a reminder of small things,” Logan stated and Darcy gave a nod, even as Ororo began to usher the pair out the door.

“You know, next time, we should ask for Erik,” Darcy stated, ignoring the stares she got and sighed.

The Soldier shifted slightly and Darcy looked at him. “What’s your question Soldier?” Darcy asked.

“Tony said I was his boyfriend?” he asked and Darcy blinked a bit.

“Huh, he did. Right. Bruce, you good?” Darcy questioned, glancing over at him.

“I need to pass out, but otherwise, yes,” Bruce answered.

“You’re clear,” Darcy stated and Bruce waved before he headed off.

“Thor, dictate your report to JARVIS, but you’re excused to do that,” Darcy stated and Thor gave a proper bow to her before he left with Jane, who paused to squeeze Darcy’s shoulder.

She gestured at Clint, who saluted and left as well. “Agents, fill out reports, throw them on my desk. I expect them in two days. Powell, you get three,” Darcy called and they saluted before retreating quickly.

The Fantastic Four were already gone and Darcy sighed, glancing at Marie, who was fussing. “Here, go to your Mother Russia,” Darcy stated and Natasha easily took Marie.

Natasha sighed and walked out, telling Marie horrible lies in Russian (most likely; Darcy still didn’t understand it, but she was learning) as she did so. Darcy watched them leave for a few moments, kind of wishing she could go with them instead. But the Soldier had asked her to explain, so that first. Taking a breath, she turned to face him again, Steve taking a few uncertain steps forward, looking a bit nervous.

“Right, yeah, Tony did say that. Okay, sit down. You’re about to get a crash course in sexuality and romantic inclination,” Darcy stated. The Soldier frowned a bit. “It’ll give me an awesome test run for future children,” Darcy added after a beat.

“So, confirmed multiple children then,” Steve stated.

“Yes. But after Marie is a little older,” Darcy answered and sat on a chair, offering the one to her right to the Soldier, who sat down easily. Steve leaned against the wall nearby.

“Right, okay. So, Tony called you his boyfriend, but Steve is also his boyfriend. We’ll start there. It is called polyamorous. Generally, it isn’t triad or however many partners it is. What it is is where everyone consents to everyone having multiple partners. Everyone is comfortable with each other, never mind that, in the average case, not everyone is dating each other. Generally, Person A is dating Person B & Person C. Person B is dating Person A & Person X, while Person C is, purely because they have no desire to, only dating Person A. All involved are very happy with this arrangement and fully consenting to it. Everyone knows that they aren’t exclusive. This is not for everyone,” Darcy explained and the Soldier nodded slowly.

“Okay, sexuality and romantic inclination, while usually aligned, is not always so. You could be romantically attracted to all genders, but only sexually attracted to female. You could be romantically attracted to no one, but sexually attracted to any gender. You could be neither romantically or sexually attracted to anyone. That’s called aro-ace. It sounds like a superhero team name. Generally one I suspect that Clint would come up with,” Darcy continued and the Soldier nodded a bit when she paused for breath. In for a penny, in for a pound, and it was probably time they just put this all out there anyway.

“Right, so… you are James “Bucky” Buchanan Barnes. Steve Rogers’s best friend from the ‘40s. You fought in World War II together and then, Zola got you,” Darcy stated and she could see when that name triggered a pure _fear_ reaction.

“Oh, he’s dead now. So very dead. He is deader than… yeah, he’s dead. I’ve made sure of it,” Darcy answered.

“Wait, what?” Steve asked, focusing on her sharply.

“You said you found him in an underground computer bank room. I made sure he didn’t upload himself anywhere or if he did well… he wasn’t there for long,” Darcy responded with a tiny shrug and Steve made a low sound.

Darcy huffed and focused on the Soldier. “Alright, so you escaped. You did. And then you went to Steve. And you… regained your memories of Bucky. Right now, you’re still… James, I guess. But… you’re not Bucky, not like this. Doesn’t mean I don’t love you any less, but I am not expecting Bucky. You two hold yourselves completely differently, but during your first round of recovery, we met completely by accident. Long before I was married to Nat, before Marie was even an _idea_. Anyway… eventually you and Steve started dating and then somewhere along that, both of you started dating Tony. It was adorable, by the way. You three are total saps,” she continued and the Soldier nodded slowly, glancing briefly at Steve before focusing back on Darcy.

“You two did. Scared the pants off Tony. Not that he was scared of _you_ , just scared of the fact he wouldn’t be good enough. Ridiculous engineer,” Darcy murmured and sighed.

“Anyway, you three are - were - all together. You were all dating. Right now, you are not, because your consent is iffy. And don’t argue Soldier, because it is, and you can recognize that. So, the relationship with you, purely because you _cannot_ consent, not really, not fully, was put on hold. And it strained at the relationship between Steve and Tony, because you see, Bucky was the one who made them communicate. Steve and Tones suck at it, Soldier,” Darcy explained.

“I noticed,” the Solder stated and Steve made a protest while Darcy laughed.

“Yeah, pretty much. They’ve gotten better, but after a lot of screwing up first. Anyway, Tony still views you as his boyfriend, but… also as the Soldier. He knows, right now, he doesn’t have Bucky. He handled it surprisingly well. But… he still sees his boyfriend. His boyfriend right now who can defend himself physically, but against other threats, against Richards? Not so much. Fucking Richards,” Darcy explained and gave a shrug.

“Any questions?” she asked.

“So… they still love Bucky… me?” the Soldier asked, brows pulling together. He looked a bit skeptical, or maybe just confused by all the information that she’d thrown at him.

“Yes,” Darcy answered calmly as Steve nodded.

“But… because I can’t remember and… I backslide, they are not acting on it?” the Soldier asked.

“Bucky… Soldier… yes, exactly. We couldn’t be sure if you were with us because of how you felt or because you thought you _had_ to,” Steve interrupted and Darcy looked over at Steve, who moved to a chair so he could sit close to Bucky.

The Soldier.

“We didn’t… we wanted to make sure that it was you, not something you thought you had to do. Tony never would have forgiven himself if that had happened, and I wouldn’t have either. Until you could. Because when you first woke up, you couldn’t. Now, maybe? But we felt that we should wait for you,” Steve continued quietly.

“So… why didn’t you call me Bucky?” the Soldier asked.

“Do you have any memory of _being_ Bucky?” Steve countered and the Soldier shook his head.

“Not… no, not entirely. Maybe… recently?” he answered and Steve nodded.

“That’s why. You only really reacted to Soldier. Later… it was just a habit. Though JARVIS always called you ‘Master James’ and that never had you panic,” Steve explained and the Soldier nodded, considering things for a moment.

“I would like that. James,” he stated and Steve beamed as Darcy carefully scooted her way out of the chair.

“All right, we’ll do that,” Steve stated and the Sol-... James gave a tiny smile before glancing at Darcy with a small frown.

“ _I_ am going to my floor. I have a baby to look after and a wife to demand dinner from,” Darcy stated and walked out the door. It left James and Steve sitting there for a stilted moment.

“And someone go talk to Tony please! He’s probably upset!” she shouted from the hallway, still walking to the elevator.

“Shit,” Steve muttered, almost shooting to his feet. “JARVIS?”

The Soldier… James - he was James now, and that didn’t feel right but it did, at the same time, much like the Mechanic had never fit quite right for Tony - glanced up curiously when the Voice remained silent.

Steve sighed at the edge of James’ hearing. “C’mon, JARVIS.”

“How may I help you, Captain?”

James watched curiously as the Captain - Steve - rolled his eyes just a bit. “Where’s Tony?”

“Sir has retreated to his workshop and initiated a lockdown.” There was a moment’s pause, before JARVIS added, “Your code is one of the ones that will allow access.”

Steve slumped, relieved. “Okay. Thank you, JARVIS.”

He didn’t get a response back, but that didn’t seem to bother him so much. He stared at… James, contemplative.

“If you want, you can come with me. I don’t know exactly what… state Tony’ll be in - Darcy didn’t seem too worried, and she’s usually pretty good at being able to tell, but….” Steve fidgeted a bit.

James wasn’t sure his presence would help the Mechanic - would help _Tony_ , but he also wanted to go, to see their interactions with this new information he’d been given. Perhaps all those reactions, remarks, quirks he’d noticed before would suddenly make sense. He got to his feet, gesturing for Steve to go ahead of him, and followed.

Steve took a deep breath before inputting his code, letting it out in a gust when the door slid open with no problems. James followed him inside, glancing around curiously until he spotted Tony curled up on the couch, petting a poodle and staring blankly ahead.

“Tony?”

James watched as Tony jerked upright, glancing between them uneasily.

“Steve,” he said slowly.

“Darcy explained to… James, about everything.”

“Did she?” he asked, voice almost strained, glancing quickly at James and then away.

“Yeah,” Steve reassured. “Why don’t….” He trailed off, looking uncertain, and took a few steps forward. Tony took one back before glaring at the floor, stiffening and holding himself still. Steve closed his eyes and took another deep, pained breath.

“Tony?”

“Yeah?” he croaked.

“C’mere,” Steve said softly, holding his arms open.

Tony stared for a long moment, again glanced quickly at James, and then walked around the couch to Steve. He paused for a moment just a step away. Steve waited, and after a deep breath Tony took that last step and leaned against Steve.

“‘M sorry,” he mumbled.

“For what?” Steve asked, sounding amused, but also a little sad. “That you punched Richards when last we talked about it, it was agreed that I had the right to go first?”

“I still call bullshit on that,” Tony mumbled. “I’ve had to deal with him longer.”

Steve rubbed his back slowly, glancing over at Bucky with a slight smile. “So you keep pointing out.” He kissed the top of Tony’s head. “Come on. Let’s go upstairs.”

“Okay,” Tony said. “We can do that.”

The poodle wandered over, hesitating for a few seconds before creeping closer and licking James’ fingers before darting after Steve and Tony.

James watched them leave and considered the pair with Peggy the Poodle. He nodded to himself and followed them out without a hint of hesitation in his steps.


	21. Chapter 21

Tony helped Marie stand, her little fingers tight around his, babbling away cheerfully.

“I’m still convinced you’ve figured out walking and just have decided you want to be carried everywhere,” Tony said conversationally. “Natasha assures me babies can’t be that devious, but you are the child of Darcy, so I think my point stands. Also, you’ve got Clint as a genetic donor, so honestly, that kind of thinking is not outside the realm of possibility.”

She blew a raspberry at him.

Tony blew one back, then continued talking to her. “So, I am making you walk, because otherwise, you’ll never learn,” he stated and smiled as Marie held onto his fingers tighter.

He smiled at her and helped guide her as far as she could walk while he remained sitting on the floor. She babbled and said, words that could mean Darcy and Natasha, but could also mean plush blocks. “Ony,” she stated and let Tony’s fingers go.

He let out a yelp, but she was stumbling right into his chest, smiling up at him. “Ony,” she stated happily as she held onto his shirt.

Tony stared at her before he carefully pulled her close, hugging her. “Ony, Ony, Ony!” she cheered and Tony nodded a bit.

“Yeah. Uncle Tony. But don’t tell your Mama I said that,” Tony answered as he carefully pulled back, supporting Marie’s weight.

“Ony!” she stated and giggled, gripping his face as she did so.

“Ony,” he agreed softly.

*~*~*

“All right, we have four people inviting us to Thanksgiving. How are we turning them down?” Darcy inquired.

“With a bottle of champagne, and a card saying, “No fuck you very much”?” Tony questioned.

“No,” Darcy answered.

“And thank you for not cussing in front of the baby,” Darcy continued.

“Why am I here instead of Steve?” Tony asked.

“Because the last time I tired, Steve tried to get us to go to all the Thanksgiving dinners being held by socialites,” Darcy responded.

“Yeah, okay, send a bottle of a wine and a card with condolences,” Tony stated and Darcy nodded.

“I have already cued up the proper condolences and bottles of wine,” JARVIS stated.

“Good man,” Darcy answered and tossed the invitations into the trash.

“Shall I initiate that as protocol Ms. Darcy?” JARVIS asked.

“Let’s,” Darcy answered and JARVIS seemed very smugly happy about the turn of events.

He had probably told Darcy the exact same thing before getting Tony involved and Tony grinned at Darcy, who pointedly ignored them both as she clicked her pen.

*~*~*

Tony had been busy all day with both SI and public things - thankfully Pepper and HR were the ones that had to deal with time off requests and vacations, but Tony had plenty of deadlines coming up with the holidays approaching. People still wanted his time as Tony Stark, as Iron Man, at this event or that fundraiser or that party. They wanted the Avengers, or just specific Avengers. Darcy and Phil took care of some of that, but some of it came straight to Tony.

He wanted, like usual, to tell everyone to fuck off and leave him alone for the holidays just this once.

At some point, he went from fine to decidedly not fine. He wasn’t sure about the exact thing that changed that, maybe the stress, maybe thinking about the holidays, maybe the memory of last year, when Bucky had kept distracting him whenever handling everything made Tony want to tear his hair out and ruin whatever was left of his public image.

He left the workshop, shutting everything down and telling JARVIS to tell anyone who asked that he was unavailable unless the world was in the middle of ending. Then he asked for Steve’s location.

Tony’s arms were folded tightly over his chest, fingers drumming restlessly against his ribs, when he found Steve on his floor, in the room meant for his art supplies.

He swallowed before walking in, right up to Steve before stopping just short of touching him.

Steve set aside the sketchbook slowly, frowning. “Tony? What’s wrong?”

Eyes darting a bit, breathing just a bit too fast and heavy to be normal, Tony took several seconds to answer. “I want a drink,” he admitted, voice hoarse.

“C’mere,” Steve murmured, carefully wrapping his fingers around one of Tony’s wrists and tugging him closer. Tony practically climbed into his lap on the couch, fingers digging tightly into Steve’s sides.

“I can - god, I swear I can taste it, Steve, and my throat feels so damned dry and I just - I… I can’t stop thinking.” His fingers tightened painfully. “I want to stop thinking.”

“About what?” Steve said, keeping his voice soft and calm, hoping it’d help, rubbing his hand through Tony’s hair and then down his back.

“It’s - Thanksgiving is in less than two months.”

“Yes,” Steve said, not sure where this was going.

“And - and last year, last year we were… do you remember?” Tony pulled back from Steve’s neck, looking at him almost desperately, eyes bright with tears he was stubbornly holding back. “Bucky wouldn’t stop trying to get Marie to kick, kept saying the baby liked him the most cause he almost always felt her kicking. And we had to drag that Lazy-Boy in for Darcy to sit in because of her back. And - and we were so _fucking happy_.” He sniffed sharply. “And we’re not going to be this year.”

Steve’s own throat felt abruptly dry and he swallowed, looking up for a moment and blinking quickly.

“We can be happy this year, too, Tony.”

“But _not like that!_ ”

Steve sighed. “No. Not like that. But we have him back. We have Marie. Everyone is here, everyone is in good health - or as good as can be with our line of work. We’re… we’re still together,” Steve added hoarsely. “We got a lot to be thankful for this year. Things could have been much worse.”

Tony shuddered, ducking his head back down so his eyes were hidden in Steve’s neck. Fair was fair, Steve thought, and turned his face into the side of Tony’s hair, nose brushing his temple.

“It’s been - it’s going to be a year soon. At what point do we have to accept that he’s not coming back? Steve, he’s - if he was coming back wouldn’t he have by now?”

“I don’t know, Tony,” Steve said thickly. “I don’t know. Maybe.” He tightened his grip around Tony, tugging him closer against his chest.

“I want him back, and I want a drink, and I want to stop thinking, and - and I’m fucking sick of feeling like this,” Tony said.

Steve didn’t know what else to say except, “I’ve got you, Tony.” He swallowed again, squeezing his eyes closed tightly, aware that he was crying just as much as Tony by this point.

“I know,” Tony whispered. “I know,” Tony repeated, his voice thick and choked off almost.

Steve held him a bit tighter, feeling his shirt starting to get wet as Tony’s shoulders started to tremble. Tony gasped and Steve held him closer, clung to him tighter, and buried his nose in Tony’s hair.

“I miss him,” Tony sobbed out and Steve nodded slightly, feeling Tony’s hair flatten slightly as tears slipped down his face.

“Me too, Tony, me too,” Steve whispered and Tony clung to him as he broke down against Steve, Steve soon joining him, just holding him tight.

When they calmed down, Steve helped Tony stand up on legs that felt like they were filled with pins and needles. He led them to their kitchen and got them glasses of ice cold water because, personally, Steve felt like he had cried the Atlantic Ocean out of his eyes and Tony didn’t look like he was much better off.

“I haven’t cried since I was eight,” Tony grumbled as he rubbed at his eyes with the heel of his hand.

Steve didn’t call him out on that blatant lie, just gave Tony the glass of water and Tony gulped it down like once upon a time he had gulped down vodka.

And scotch.

And one memorable time both in the same glass.

Steve pointedly redirected his thoughts and got them refills without prompting. Sighing, Tony leaned against Steve’s side, looking exhausted.

“I know it’s supposed to be a team meal night but….”

“Yeah,” Steve agreed. “Let’s just order some take out, get in bed. Maybe put on a movie or something.”

“That sounds nice,” Tony murmured, finishing off his water. He set the glass in the sink, following at Steve’s side down the hall to their room. Silently, Tony reached out to link their fingers; Steve lifted their hands and kissed the back of Tony’s, smiling when Tony glanced at him.

“Love you,” he said.

Tony smiled faintly. “Yeah. I love you, too.” As they walked into the room, Tony added, “JARVIS, let everyone know we’re not going to be there tonight and block all communication unless it is high priority.”

“Yes, Sir,” JARVIS said quietly.

Sighing, Tony shoved out of his workshop jeans, leaving them in a pile on the floor, and crawled onto the bed after Steve, dropping against his side. Steve was on his phone, calling in their order for dinner, so Tony took the moment that Steve couldn’t make a big deal about it to murmur, “Thanks, Steve.”

He ignored the look from Steve that said he knew just what Tony was doing, that he didn’t think he’d done anything worth a thank you, not really. Tony set up the movie while Steve finished ordering, so that when he hung up and shifted downwards a bit more, Tony only had to press play to discourage conversation.

Steve sighed, pressing a kiss to the side of Tony’s head. He smiled a bit before saying, “Anytime.”

*~*~*

“I’m trying to decide Marie’s first Halloween costume,” Darcy stated as she, gently, shifted her foot so Marie was rolled over onto her back.

Marie giggled and squirmed as she wiggled her way back around onto her stomach to crawl over to Tony.

He was only sitting on the floor because it was comfy.

“Ony, uppeas!” Marie begged as she sat down (after some maneuvering) in front of him.

Her arms were reaching up to him and Tony sighed. “I’m only doing this because you asked nice,” Tony stated and picked her up.

He swung her up and pressed his mouth to her stomach, blowing on her stomach. Marie squealed and wiggled, kicking out at him. He grinned and pulled back slightly to hold her close while Marie babbled at him. “Right, no pumpkins,” Tony stated as he shot Darcy a grin, who gave him a _look_.

“Yeah, no, she’s not going to be a pumpkin,” Darcy agreed.

“Kin, kin!” Marie squealed and Tony chuckled.

“You’re just repeating words now,” Tony accused and Marie giggled.

“Maybe a bird?” Darcy asked.

“I vote for that!” Clint called from the vent and Tony nearly dropped Marie in surprise.

It was only practice with holding burning hot metals that stopped him from doing so. “Fudge you Barton, I’m going to put a Nerf dart between your eyes!” Darcy accused as she stood up, already drawing her Nerf gun.

Clint made a sound and Tony could hear him retreating while Marie giggled. “Ent, Ent,” Marie babbled.

“Yeah, that’s Uncle Clint. He’s a bit stupid sometimes,” Tony agreed and Marie giggled again.

“That’s why he’s _Stupid_ Uncle Clint,” Darcy muttered sourly. She sat back down, keeping the Nerf gun in her lap, and considered Marie.

“We could make her a little elf and call her Elvendork,” Tony suggested, raising a brow.

Darcy gave him an unamused look and shot a nerf dart at his arm. “You’re not as funny as you think you are.”

“I’m just imagining Clint’s face,” Tony said, tilting his head back as he spoke when Marie tried to mush his cheeks. “A bird would be cute, though. Can you say ‘cheep, cheep’?” he asked, looking down at Marie.

“Chee, chee!” Marie giggled.

Tony grinned and kissed the tip of her nose. “And you’ll be a cuter little bird than Clint. Which isn’t that hard, of course.” He glanced at Darcy, shifting Marie around so she was facing out and could reach out for Blue Bear. “Are you taking her trick or treating, or…?”

“There’s some places that have carnivals for kids; we’ll probably go to one of those.” She pulled a tablet off the coffee table into her lap, turning it on and starting to search up baby bird costumes. “I’ve already got JARVIS looking through to find the best ones.”

“I have narrowed the list down to seven, and will continue to do some research to achieve the best three as requested.”

“Thanks JARVIS,” Darcy said, beaming.

Tony let Marie back to the floor, watching her crawl quickly over to Blue Bear and pick him up, babbling cheerfully, a few almost-words interspersed.

She was so _big_ now. Tony wondered if he’d feel this flummoxed every time he thought about it, if he hadn’t missed five months of her life completely.

“What about this?” Darcy asked, shoving the tablet in his face. He blinked, drawing back slightly, and scowled.

“That is hideous, if you put that on Marie I will personally kidnap your child and put her in an Iron Man costume instead.”

Darcy laughed. “I was just messing with you. I’d never put her in that thing.”

“Good,” Tony grunted, still scowling until Darcy swiped the image away, sitting down next to him.

“We also need to start thinking about plans for her birthday,” she said quietly.

Almost a year old, Tony thought, humming absently and watching Marie stack plush blocks around Blue Bear.

It should have been different, the past year, less fucking insane and happier. They should have been able to do more, with Marie, as a family, but… well. What’s done was done.

“We should order cake from that bakery that did the one for Steve’s birthday last year,” Tony offered.

Darcy nodded in agreement. “They did do good work and didn’t even question the use of that truly horrible comic book cover,” she stated and Tony snickered a bit as he continued to watch Marie play with her toys.

“And Tony?” she said and Tony hummed a little.

“I always think she looks so big too,” she finished and Tony hugged her with one arm as they watched Marie play.


	22. Chapter 22

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh hey look a middle-of-the-week chapter!  
> Last weekend wasn't awesome for us, and the weekend before that finals were a thing, but look, we gave you a chapter in the middle of the week to make up for it!!! Totally out of the goodness of our hearts.  
> *smiles innocently*

Bucky groaned as he rubbed his neck, trying to work out the kinks in his neck. He wondered why he was on the couch before he slowly stood up. He stretched before he wandered into the kitchen, filled Peggy’s bowl with fresh water, and started the coffee machine.

He had a kink in his back that he couldn’t remember the reason for - probably sparring too hard with Steve or something, maybe just _from_ sleeping on the couch - and he needed to shower and shave. But there was no rush to, nothing that had to get done today, so he took his time.

(Maybe he could sneak in while Steve took his shower after his morning run with Peggy.)

He heard the door to their room creak almost soundlessly as it opened, so grabbed Tony’s favorite mug and made Tony’s coffee, stirring in the last spoonful of sugar when Tony stumbled into the kitchen, sleep-rumpled and blinking heavily.

Bucky tried to remember what time Tony had come to bed the other night, but it was fuzzy. Later than he should have, by the looks of things. He’d see about coercing Tony into a little afternoon nap later.

“Morning, gorgeous,” he said, handing the coffee over.

Tony took it, mumbling ‘good morning’ back before he drank some. He lowered the cup slowly and frowned, mouthing something to himself in apparent confusion.

Ever so slowly, Tony looked up at Bucky and stared, unease clear before his eyes went wider and the coffee cup fell out of his hands.

“Tony, what-” Bucky asked, worried, and then he had an armful of Tony, clutching his shirt and sobbing. Bucky’s worry shot into a low level of actual panic, and he lifted Tony up slightly before stepping back, farther from the shards of ceramic and spreading coffee.

“Tony, hey, what’s wrong?” Bucky set him down on the nearest stool and tried to pull back a bit, to see Tony’s face, but Tony only held on tighter, fingers close to ripping the fabric, chanting into Bucky’s chest the same thing over and over.

“You’re back, you’re back, you’re back.”

“Tony,” he said quietly. “You’re scaring me, what’s-”

He gave up, sighing, and held Tony close, running his hand up Tony’s back to curl his hand around Tony’s neck. “Shh, I’ve got you.”

First things first - get Tony calmed the hell down, so maybe he’d start making some sense.

The elevator dinged quietly, and there was the click of claws and Steve’s footsteps, still quick with energy from the run. Bucky looked up at the doorway as Steve stepped through, freezing in place.

Peggy wiggled excitedly.

“Steve, can you please tell me what the hell is going on?” Bucky asked.

But Steve just kept gaping at him, making these desperate, little gasping noises, like he couldn’t catch his breath. Bucky frowned, the panic kicking up a notch, because it wasn’t just Tony, it was Steve too, and something was _wrong._

Peggy started to come forward.

“No, Peggy, stay!” Bucky said, too aware of the broken shards of the coffee cup on the ground.

Peggy’s training paid off as, even as she whined, obviously wanting to go to Bucky’s side, she stayed, wiggling like she hadn’t seen him in a week. He held onto Tony and looked up at ceiling.

“Master James, I’ve called Miss Darcy,” JARVIS stated.

“Yeah, thanks J,” Bucky stated as he rubbed Tony’s back, trying to reassure him but Tony seemed to have taken a flying leap off the cliff of ‘okay’ and was crashing and burning as Bucky tried to calm him down.

In fact, Bucky kind of wondered if he was making it worse, because each whispered, soothing word just seemed to make him sob more, harder.

He glanced over at Steve again, slumped against the wall just inside the kitchen and staring with wide eyes. “Steve?”

Steve rubbed a hand over his mouth, shaking slightly, looking like he was about two seconds from dropping to the ground and crying.

So, no improvement there.

It took about ten minutes for Darcy to appear, poking her head around the corner into the kitchen first and taking everything in before looking at him. She looked… well, there was an odd mix of expressions on her face, reassurance and relief and a bit of… something like pity but not.

He swallowed, a flicker of fear striking his chest. “Hey Darce, you know….”

Bucky lost the words, eyes locking on the - the little girl in Darcy’s arms, because that wasn’t a baby, not… not the kind of baby he’d think to see Darcy with. Darcy had… she’d been….

“I…” Bucky stared helplessly.

The baby - the little girl, she stared, a frown on her face, before it cleared into a huge grin. “Boo-Boo!” she declared, holding out her hands and reaching for - for Bucky. “Boo-Boo, uppeas!”

Steve finally slumped down the wall, crying and _laughing_ _,_ breath hiccuping every once in awhile.

Darcy nodded, to herself, and turned for the living room. “Not right now sweetie. Boo-Boo will carry you around later,” she promised.

She came back - the little girl not in her arms - and tugged at Steve’s arm. “Come on, up. You’re gonna watch Marie for a minute.”

Steve dragged his other arm over his face, sniffing and nodding, taking steadying breaths. “Yeah. I can do that. Watch Marie.”

“Yes, watch Marie,” Darcy agreed. She gave Steve a little push towards the living room before turning to Bucky, who still had a sobbing Tony in his arms. Probably, they should find some way to calm Tony down, soon, because his hitching breaths were getting upsettingly desperate.

Darcy picked her way across the floor and sighed. “Let’s get somewhere… private.”

Bucky nodded, feeling dazed and worried and just a bit horrified.

How long, exactly, had he missed? And… and just what….

Bucky bent a bit and lifted Tony up, carefully stepping over and around the coffee and shards on the floor, leaving Darcy behind grabbing a broom. Peggy followed right at his heels. Bucky paused to glance into the living room; Steve was on the floor, staring at Marie with a desperate kind of focus.

Bucky stopped in their bedroom, thought about trying to set Tony down and could _imagine_ the freak-out that would lead to at this moment. So instead he awkwardly sat and then scooted back until he could lean against the headboard.

Steve joined them not too much later, crawling up and burying his face against the side of Bucky’s neck not taken by Tony.

“How old is she?” Bucky asked, barely managing to get it out, a part of him not wanting to know at all.

Steve swallowed. “Her first birthday’s in a month.”

Bucky barely heard Tony make a choked sound, was barely aware of the way Steve’s arm that was flung over the both of them tightened.

He wanted to know just what had happened that he’d lost a year - it was terrifying, because he hadn’t _realized_ _,_ because of how Tony and Steve were reacting, because it wasn’t even an entirely unfamiliar sensation, to have lost time and not immediately know it.

Bucky didn’t _dare_ ask, not with his boyfriends in this state.

The answers weren’t going anywhere, and no matter how much Bucky wanted them at the moment, they weren’t more important than making sure Steve and Tony were okay.

He’d wait.

*~*~*

Tony was still and quiet, and Bucky was almost sure he was asleep. Steve for sure was, softly snoring, face slack, dried tear tracks on his cheeks.

Sighing soundlessly, Bucky rubbed his thumb over them clearing them away as best he could, shifting slowly until he wasn’t under Steve’s side anymore. Tony was going to be more difficult, he was sure, but Bucky wanted to see if Darcy and the baby - he could call her a baby if she wasn’t quite a year yet, that was okay, he didn’t completely miss… - were still in the living room.

He wanted to ask Darcy what the fuck had happened with him that he’d lost nearly a year.

Bits and pieces had floated back. He remembered, now, that HYDRA had attacked the Tower. (He’d been curled up on the couch with Steve, watching Tony wrestle the blanket out from where it’d been wedged into the armchair the other night. They’d been planning on watching a movie.) He remembered the absolute _shitty_ timing as Darcy had gone into labor, remembered telling Tony ‘Steve and I got this’, remembered that somehow Bruce - the Hulk - had been gone and….

He didn’t remember anything after that. (Or maybe he did. He hoped he didn’t, that it was just his imagination supplying horrible possibilities, or pulling from _old_ memories.)

Bucky shifted, making soothing noises as Tony whined at him, gently unhooking Tony’s fingers from his shirt and heading for the bathroom. He glanced at his reflection, grimacing a bit. Definitely could use a shave, his hair a trim.

Right then, he’d settle for a shower and shave, though.

He turned on the shower, checked it - warm immediately, as always - and stripped, sighing in relief at the water on his back and shoulders, working at that kink. Bucky shaved first, sighing in relief after, as he ran his fingers over his jaw and cheeks. Better - fucking better.

He was rinsing the soap off of his chest when JARVIS said, “Master James, you must return to the room immediately, Sir is-”

Bucky launched out of the shower, even as JARVIS finished, “-having a severe panic attack.”

Steve was awake, backed away from the corner of the room Tony had wedged himself into, making horrible breathless noises.

“Fuck,” Bucky swore, sliding to his knees a few feet from Tony, ignoring Steve’s stuttering call of his name.

“Tony, you gotta breathe for me, you’ve gotta try. In for four - come on, one, two, three, four….”

It took longer than it ever had before. Steve went and brought Bucky a towel, and Bucky was able to get Tony to look at him.

“I’m right here,” he promised. “I’m not going anywhere, Tony, I’m here.” He swallowed. “You okay if I touch you?”

Tony nodded, a single small jerky movement up and down that was all Bucky needed to scoot forward and wrap one arm around Tony’s waist, curling his other hand over Tony’s neck and just holding on to him.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered. “I’m sorry. I’m here, Tony, I’m right here.”

Steve murmured that he was going to use the shower, since he hadn’t after his run with Peggy. Bucky grimaced, but he didn’t even think Tony’d be okay enough if he was in the bathroom but without a line of sight on Bucky, at least right then.

At least he’d rinsed off, shaved. Soaped up a little. Better than nothing. (Not worth putting Tony into a panic.)

Bucky waited a few minutes longer. “You going to be okay letting go so I can get dressed? I know your opinion on nudity at every opportunity, but I’m kind of hungry.”

It got, at least, a soft huff of a laugh out of Tony, even if it was a bit forced and frayed at the edges.

Bucky kissed his temple and separated them, squeezing Tony’s neck before he walked over to the dresser.

His clothes were a bit musty.

He tried not to think about what it meant, that his clothes hadn’t been touched in a long time.

Instead, Bucky grabbed a pair of Tony’s sweats - leaving them low on his hips to fit to his ankles - and one of Steve’s shirts. He grabbed a hair tie to pull his hair back into a bun, heading right back over to Tony as he did and curling an arm around him, just holding him close.

Tony took a deep breath and sighed quietly.

“‘M sorry,” he mumbled.

“Shut up, there’s nothing for you to be sorry for,” Bucky said.

Steve came out of the bathroom, and must have brought clothes with him because he came out dressed. He glanced at the two of them, eyes lingering worriedly on Tony.

“You doing okay?” he asked, his voice quiet and serious in a way that told Bucky it was an important question.

Tony nodded.

“Okay,” Steve said, letting out a gust of air and straightening. “Let’s go… talk.”

“After we eat,” Bucky said, eyes sharp on Steve. Steve, who looked like he was pulling on the air of command, like he was trying to distance himself from what was happening like he’d sometimes done back before, and considering how he’d broken down earlier Bucky didn’t think it was exactly a good thing.

“Okay,” Steve said again, voice a little quieter, more Steve and less ‘in charge’ command. “Eating first.”

*~*~*

Tony glanced over at Bucky again, just to make sure. Make sure that he hadn’t disappeared, that it wasn’t the Soldier there again, that it was actually Bucky and that Bucky wasn’t going to vanish.

He was still a bit embarrassed about how he’d reacted to waking up to find Bucky no longer in bed between him and Steve. Once the panic had hit, though, there hadn’t been much room in his brain for rationality.

Slowly, Tony slid his foot out until it touched Bucky’s, relaxing at the contact and looking back at his plate of food. Of food made by Bucky, and his coffee was made by Bucky, and Peggy hadn’t left the side of Bucky’s chair, and-

“What day is it?” Bucky asked, his voice quiet and steady, in a way that told Tony he wanted to know the answer as much as he was dreading it.

“Halloween,” he answered, pushing the eggs around on his plate. “Marie is going to be a baby bird.”

Bucky let out a shaky breath. “Marie,” he repeated, softly as if to himself.

Tony realized that Bucky didn’t know - know anything, probably. They hadn’t been sure what, if anything, he’d remember, and the way he’d been acting made it clear that he didn’t, at all. At least not yet.

A part of Tony was relieved.

The Soldier might not have realized Tony was in rehab.

Bucky would.

He’d have to tell him eventually, of course. That he’d slipped up his sobriety streak, that he’d had to check in for professional help for five months. That he still had days where he wasn’t sure he could do it, where a drink was tempting and Tony felt like he would shake apart without one. Today wasn’t one, thankfully. If the panic attack hadn’t turned that switch, he was good. At least for the day.

Tomorrow he would probably want to drown himself in scotch and vodka, but considering his floor was dry, he would have to go beg the alcohol from Clint and Natasha and that was just… not going to happen.

At all.

Mainly because Natasha would knock him unconscious and Clint would tie him up and go running for Phil. Or Steve. Or both.

Yeah, no.

No tying up.

Ever.

A part of Tony just wanted to _rip_ that “bandage” (the fact he was in rehab for five months) right off. Just tell Bucky how much he had fucked up, fallen off that wagon, rolled down a hill, and crashed into a fast flowing river.

“...ony? Tony, are you alright?” Bucky asked and Tony’s eyes snapped up to Bucky, who was gently touching his shoulder.

“I fell off the wagon and I had to go into rehab for five months and I took Peggy with me,” Tony blurted out and froze when Bucky’s eyes widened.

Tony closed his eyes tightly, tensing to prepare himself (though for _what_ _,_ Tony wasn’t even sure), and Bucky gave a low sound before Tony was wrapped up tight in a hug. “Hey, Tony, I’m sorry I wasn’t there to support you for that,” Bucky whispered and Tony let out a weak little laugh.

“Hey, no, none of that,” Bucky stated and Tony felt him pull away slightly.

“Tony, please look at me?” Bucky asked and Tony listened because it was Bucky.

Bucky was _here_ _._ Bucky was here and talking to him and Tony swallowed sharply as he stared at Bucky, who was smiling warmly at him. “No, I mean it. You took a huge leap. You went and you got help and you did it, from the way you just said, on your own. More or less. _You_ made that choice. That… that is huge, Tony,” Bucky stated.

“It wasn’t… I shouldn’t….” Tony argued softly and Bucky shook his head sharply.

“No, you did, because you realized you needed help and you did the responsible, adult thing and got help. I can think of a few people who didn’t. And they’re dead. And, as I do not want you dead, I am very proud that you did that. I am only disappointed that I wasn’t there to support you, because no matter what, it was hard. You… you brilliant, bright, amazing man that you are,” Bucky stated and pressed a kiss to Tony’s forehead, which had his eyes sliding closed.

“It wasn’t….” Tony mumbled and Bucky groaned.

Tony felt Bucky’s forehead push against his and Bucky’s hands cradle his head as Bucky heaved out a sigh. “You did a good thing. I wish I was there for you. I also wish I could hunt down whoever put these stupid ideas in your head and rip out their throat,” Bucky grumbled.

Tony let out a laugh, and it was a bit high and choked and Bucky murmured sappy ‘40s nicknames (that Tony was sure Bucky actually Googled in his spare time because it was ridiculous). “Well, you kind-of were. And you kind-of did,” Tony answered and then immediately wished he could rip his own tongue out.

“Yeah, we’ll get back to that later, but not right now. Because right now would be underhanded and dirty. Also, I feel that extracting names, dates, and places from you when you are riding a relieved high of some sort is wrong,” Bucky muttered and pulled back slightly.

“Eat your eggs. And _then_ I’ll extract names, dates, and places,” he added and Tony laughed, feeling like his bones were liquid and that nothing was going to be okay while at the same time knowing that yes, it would be.

He glanced across the table, at Steve. Steve was smiling with a warm smile, which only widened when he caught Tony’s eye. Tony managed to smile back, and did as Bucky had said, turning back to his plate.

*~*~*

“So, I’ve decided that I’m taking Marie to the Howling Commando Park tonight. Well… early afternoon to tonight. She’s 11 months old, so yeah, not a late night, which brings us to… costumes. For everyone else,” Darcy stated and Natasha stared at her.

“Shouldn’t we have done this earlier in the month?” she asked.

“We’re flowers. You’re a rose and I’m a daisy,” Darcy stated and Natasha gave a shrug with a slight head nod of agreement.

“No, I’m with Natasha on this. Shouldn’t we have gotten costumes towards the beginning of the month? Like when you were bugging us for ideas on Marie?” Clint asked as he signed.

“We’re going as… you know I’ll show you later,” Phil answered, his face flushing and Darcy narrowed her eyes at him.

“You’re going as Comic Book Cap and Bucky aren’t you?” she asked and Phil very pointedly ignored her while Clint glanced between them, pointing his arrow at them.

“Why are you two mumbling?” he demanded while Bucky supported a very happy Marie on his lap.

“Boo-Boo,” she stated.

“That’s going to stick with me forever, isn’t it?” he asked.

“Boo-Boo,” she demanded before she pressed a kiss to his forehead.

“Well, you are definitely related to your mother and genetic donor,” Bucky stated and Marie babbled at him as Bucky pressed a kiss to her cheek.

“So, that leaves Bruce, Tony, Steve, and Bucky without a costume. And since I knew you four wouldn’t think up for one… Pepper’s getting your costumes. Because there may or may not be small children coming for candy,” Darcy stated.

“The only small child allowed in this building is Marie,” Tony stated.

“Yeah. The costume is for Marie so I can take a picture and have us all be in costume. That’s it,” Darcy stated.

“Though, I may have Bruce bring down candy for Marie’s playmate friends. Apparently there are some people who work for us Tony that had kids around-ish the same time as I did. It is baby safe candy. Okay, it is adult candy for the adults, because the kids will be passed out and they’ll be in a cab, so they’ll be safe,” Darcy answered.

“It is those rum-chocolates I saw you hiding the other day isn’t it?” Natasha stated.

“I will neither confirm nor deny that those are the candies that I am discussing,” Darcy answered.

“Those are good,” Tony stated and Darcy looked up at him.

“I can throw some in the fridge for, ‘I want because I want not because I need’ days?” Darcy offered and Tony nodded.

“Yeah, sure, but I prefer your rum cake,” Tony stated.

“Time consuming and exhausting, and not happening around small child, but maybe after she turns five?” Darcy responded and Tony gave a salute before snuggling himself pointedly into Bucky’s side, though without disturbing Marie

“And when will our costumes be arriving?” Bruce asked and Darcy got off her stool to cross to Bucky.

“Now,” she answered, lifting Marie onto her hip as the elevator doors dinged and opened.

“I’m getting the family costume portrait done while Marie is in a happy mood,” Darcy stated as Pepper walked out.

Pepper shoved a bag at Bruce. “That’s yours,” she stated and walked over to Steve, shoving one at him.

“Yours, Tony’s, and Bucky, good to see you back from your retreat, and here is your costume,” Pepper greeted and Bucky was surprised when she hugged him.

“We missed you,” she stated and pulled away, only then Bucky realizing that she was dressed as a cat.

A cat in a very proper business attire, but still, a cat. “I made the mistake of telling Darcy I wasn’t sure what to wear to the Stark Industries Halloween party,” Pepper stated.

“I would be insulted, except I think the fact you are wearing my piece of advice speaks for itself. Everyone, go get into costume please. I have to make sure Marie will be not ripping her costume to shreds later,” Darcy stated as she bounced Marie on her hip, which had her laughing.

“We’re going,” Bucky promised as he slowly got up, tugging Tony and Steve with him.

“Why does everyone always meet on my floor?” Tony asked.

“Because we love you,” Darcy called as Marie went, “Ony, Ony, Ony!”

*~*~*

“Uh, I think there was a mistake at the costume shop,” Steve stated as he finished tugging on his devil costume.

“I don’t think so,” Bucky stated with a grin.

The devil costume was surprisingly nice, and not at all revealing. “I think Darcy decided I was going to be Kronk with my shoulder angel and my shoulder demon,” Tony stated as he tugged at his togo-like costume.

“Who is Kronk?” Bucky asked.

“We’ll watch that today. Later. After Marie has left because when we play it, she throws a fit till she’s sitting down and watching it with us,” Tony stated.

“It is like she has a sixth sense for it. And yeah, I could see how Darcy would find it amusing to do this, seeing how often we’ve watched that movie with Marie,” Steve said with a wry smile.

They went back out to the living room, everyone in their costumes and Darcy lightly bouncing Marie on her hip, even as Marie kept stretching out to grab at Natasha, babbling insistently. Bucky wasn’t sure if he was more tempted to laugh or groan at Phil and Clint’s costumes, tossing Steve a look and getting a smile back. Tony darted up to Bruce, joking and grinning, Bruce shyly smiling back and adjusting the crown on his head.

As Bucky hesitated, watching them all, Thor burst in with Jane, both dressed up as well, though Bucky couldn’t figure out as exactly what. Sam was behind them, too, in a blue suit; he stopped to talk with Steve, pulling out something like a thick pen to show Steve with a grin. It emitted a blue flash when he pressed a button, catching Tony’s attention and making him almost howl with laughter.

Bucky smiled. Whatever had happened in the past year, whatever he’d missed, at least he still had this. All of them together, happy and laughing and… a family.

“Okay, come on, picture time!” Darcy said, loud enough to be heard over all the various conversations. Natasha scooped Marie out of Darcy’s arms, allowing Darcy to start darting around and moving people where she wanted them.

Steve looked over and frowned a bit.

“Bucky?”

Tony glanced over, a bit sharp and like he was ready to begin panicking.

Smiling at them, as reassuring as he knew how to be, Bucky came over to join them. He slid an arm around Tony’s shoulders, leaning up to kiss Steve, ignoring Darcy telling them pointedly to “Stop kissing and get in the photo.”

“Love you,” he murmured, pleased when that little bit of extra tension in Steve’s shoulders fell away and Tony shifted closer.

“Boo-Boo!”

Laughing, Bucky pulled back. “Alright, you demanding little monster-”

“She’s a bird!” Clint interjected.

“-alright, we’re coming.”


	23. Chapter 23

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the wait guys, but here it is!!! Just one chapter left after this one!

It took almost two weeks for Tony not to immediately panic with Bucky out of sight. Bucky did not, even in the slightest, resent him for it. Obviously whatever had happened over the year had done a bit of a number on Tony, especially on the hard-earned sense of security concerning Bucky or Steve leaving him.

Right then, Tony was in a board meeting. Bucky had talked to him for twenty minutes before it started and already responded to three text messages in the last forty minutes.

“Hey, J,” Bucky called, leaning back on the couch. “Wanna catch me up on what I missed while I was… checked out?"

“Certainly, Master James.” JARVIS responded promptly. “Sir suffered various injuries while the team searched for you, including a dislocated shoulder, a sprained ankle, and various contusions. You were found and brought back to the Tower after one month, a week, and four days.”

“And I was… the Soldier again,” Bucky stated quietly.

“Yes. Agent Coulson hypothesized that you were in a state much like when awakening and awaiting orders.”

Bucky shivered a bit.

“You did not attack anyone within the Tower, nor anyone outside of it,” JARVIS reassured before continuing listing events. Most of them were normal things - Clint fell off of buildings five times, which was actually not bad for almost a full year - and Marie’s first word was, debatably, Boo-Boo, which made Bucky blush. He was mostly just listening, not so much thinking too deeply about it all, when he shot upright and snapped, “Wait, hold up J, what the fuck did you say?”

“There was a portal incident involving Dr. Richards that-”

“No, before that,” he said.

“Agent Barton fell off of five-”

“JARVIS!”

“Ah, you are inquiring about Captain Rogers chasing Sir down to the workshop, slamming his fists against the windows until I gased him, causing Sir to suffer a severe panic attack and retreat to Dr. Banner’s floor with Peggy?”

Bucky sat there, eyes wide, and hoarsely said, “Yeah. That.”

“Sir and the Captain had an altercation in the kitchen. When Sir attempted to leave, Captain Rogers pursued him.”

“That….” Bucky shook his head, numb. That didn’t sound like Steve. Sure, he and Tony tended to get into arguments, but….

“When Sir locked the Captain out, he became further upset and began to beat upon the windows with force. After he did not respond to my verbal warnings to step away, I gased him, knocking the Captain unconscious for just over three hours. Sir calmed enough to go to Dr. Banner’s floor and stayed the night there. He left two days later for a conference in Chicago. It was about a month later that Sir checked himself into rehab with Col Rhodes help.”

Bucky stared at the floor, hands flexing. “Where’s Steve?” he eventually asked.

“Captain Rogers is in the gym,” JARVIS supplied.

Nodding and pushing to his feet, Bucky went to find him.

He slipped into the gym, checking that it was empty and murmuring for JARVIS to lock it to anyone else. This wasn’t the kind of conversation that other people needed to be aware of happening, let alone listen in on.

Bucky’d had some time to think, on his way down. Probably, the team knew the general gist of things. JARVIS would have informed Darcy, which meant Nat knew. If Tony had left the Tower that quickly, then Phil probably knew, and if Phil _and_ Nat knew, then Clint would know some if not most of it, too. Bruce would know from Tony turning up. Steve probably told Sam.

So the team knew. Bucky wouldn’t be surprised if JARVIS had also immediately informed Pepper or Rhodey.

So everyone _knew_ what had happened at least generally, but Bucky wondered if anyone knew _why_. Tony and Steve argued, yeah, but that sounded like it had been different.

It left a sick feeling in his gut, that the most likely reason they’d been arguing was him. Vague memories kept tickling at the edges of his mind, of Steve and Tony snapping at each other….

Bucky waited while Steve finished a round with the reinforced punching bag before he stepped aside, grabbing and rubbing a towel over his face.

“What’s up, Bucky?” he asked. His voice was calm, if a bit resigned.

Steve had to suspect why Bucky was here. Might be wrong about the exact reason, but he had to suspect something pretty close.

“You wanna explain to me exactly what happened between you and Tony while I was checked out?”

“A lot of things went on, Buck,” Steve said quietly, looking down as he meticulously unwrapped his hands.

“Alright, I’ll be more specific.” Bucky shifted, crossing his arms. “You wanna tell me what the _hell_ was going through your head the night JARVIS gased you?”

For a few lengthy minutes, Steve was quiet. He finished unwrapping his hands and put the tape away. “I forgot,” he admitted, voice quiet and sad.

“What?”

Steve looked up at him, eyes glassy, looking so sad and regretful it tugged at Bucky’s heart.

“I forgot he was on the other side. For a moment, after that first hit…. And I,” Steve paused, frowning, eyes going unfocused in thought. “It felt like I was losing my whole world again - you to the Soldier, and Tony to… to this distance we couldn’t seem to work past. So I kept hitting, because it was like there was finally something I could be _angry_ at, could hit, that wouldn’t shatter under my fists.” He focused on Bucky again. “And then I woke up a few hours later.”

“You two were fighting about me,” Bucky stated, swallowing past the thick feeling in his throat.

“Not really,” Steve sighed, looking away. His arms folded around his chest, but as some measure of self-comfort, not defensive. “We… we’d been fighting a lot. I was mad he was fixing your arm, alone, because I was terrified I’d lose him, too. And he - he was mad at me for trying to control what he did, for trying to keep him away. He felt useless, and I was busy, and… and I kept avoiding actually talking to him about how I was feeling.” Steve’s voice broke. “He came up and I was just so _damn angry_ about everything, so I lashed out. And you know Tony.” Steve smiled, a twisted, self-degrading kind of thing. “He doesn’t just take a hit. He’ll strike back with precision.”

Steve shook his head. “And then he just - he stopped paying any attention, and it made me fucking furious because it felt like he just wasn’t listening to _anything_ I said anymore. And he ran off, so I - I went after him, because I - I don’t know Buck,” Steve said helplessly, looking at him with a kind of desperation. “I guess I was just determined that we’d finally have it out, except I lost it and - and god, I, I woke up and - and I thought I was going to be sick, right then and there.”

“Jesus, Steve.” Bucky shook his head.

“I tried to stay angry at him, at everyone because - because otherwise I was going to, to lose my head.” Steve shook his head once. “You remember those soldiers, Buck? The men that snapped, went blank and empty ‘cause they couldn’t deal with what they’d seen or done? I was scared that if I kept feeling so awful about what happened, I’d turn into something like that. So I stayed angry.”

“What changed?” Bucky asked. Because something must have.

Steve smiled ruefully. “You came up and demanded I give an ETA for the Mechanic’s return.” When Bucky just stared at him silently, not sure how to respond to that, Steve continued. “I lost it again - just, I lost it and punched the cupboard door and…. I realized I was… that I was starting to cross some kind of line,” Steve murmured, shrugging uncomfortably. “I stayed with Sam for a while. He… he talked to me about it, got me connected to a therapist.”

Bucky blinked. “Therapist.” It was hard to imagine Steve opening up to a stranger, let alone to talk about what made him scared and angry.

Steve nodded, eyes ducked away.

He wasn’t sure what he felt about all this, but it was in the past, and hell if Bucky was going to leave Steve looking like that, guilty and alone.

“Y’always did have a temper on you, Rogers,” Bucky chuckled, trying to lighten the mood a bit. “Tony know?”

Steve nodded again. “He uh… I told him during my second visit.” Steve took a deep breath and glanced at Bucky, an odd kind of determination in his eyes. “I didn’t know Tony was in rehab, Buck. Not until he was four months in.”

Bucky’d been walking forward, but he froze at that, staring in disbelief. “How the hell-”

“No one would tell me where he was, Darcy put me in paperwork _hell_ when I asked you - asked the Soldier, and JARVIS _still_ sometimes treats me like…. And I deserve it, Bucky, I-”

“Why-” Bucky tried to ask, but Steve just kept going.

“-missed it when he called me, finally, because I misplaced that stupid fucking phone, and it took me four days to even call him back, so of course he didn’t answer and I-”

“Steve,” Bucky said sharply, grabbing Steve’s shoulders firmly. “I’m not mad at you.” When Steve just stared at him with wide eyes, Bucky sighed and yanked him into a hug. “You fucked up, okay, but you worked on fixing it. I’m proud of you, punk.”

Steve slumped into him, a muffled broken sound that Bucky decided not to think of as a sob coming from him. Bucky rubbed his back, leaning his head against the side of Steve’s, and held him for as long as it took.

*~*~*

“Hey, got a minute?” Bucky asked after knocking a knuckle against Darcy’s office door. She looked up, smiling brightly at him, and Marie exclaimed “Boo-Boo!” from the floor. Bucky scooped her up as he passed, because he couldn’t get enough of holding her, and plopped into the chair in front of Darcy’s desk.

“I’ve been meaning to come by sooner,” he told her, brushing his fingers lightly over Marie’s hair. “But….”

“It’s fine,” Darcy assured him, smiling.

He glanced at her, then back at Marie. “I wanted to thank you. For keeping an eye out on them - especially on Tony. For, uh… for helping me, too.”

“Of course-”

“But did you have to put Steve in paperwork hell?” Bucky asked.

Darcy sighed and set everything to the side. “At the time? Yes,” she answered and Bucky stared at her.

She hummed and rolled her shoulders, her head. He could hear something faintly pop and she sighed. “At the time, Steve was out of control. Not in a way that could get him pulled from the field, but he was pushing boundaries and crossing lines he shouldn’t have. He was _not_ the Steve Rogers I knew, nor liked. I mean, I still loved the idiot through all of that, but he went to the Soldier. He asked the _Soldier_. He didn’t come to me, he didn’t try to ask Phil, he went to _the Soldier_ who had tracked Tony down. He went to what he perceived the weakest link in the chain to find Tony.

"Had he come to me, I would have told him that Tony needed space to clear his head, and when he felt comfortable, he would contact Steve and I would have probably told Steve more. But there was nothing in, around, or beyond this world that was going to have me telling that to _that_ Steve Rogers. He wasn’t _our_ Steve, he was a mess and not one I trusted near Tony. At all, and not because of his actions, but because _Tony_ didn’t trust him. He _ran_ from this Steve, Bucky. He _ran_ and he _hid_ and I had to call up _Rhodey_. Did I drag paperwork hell out to excessive lengths? Yes. I would apologize, but he isn’t ready to hear that. When he’s ready to hear it, I will sit him down, give him baked goods, and apologize for putting him through excessive paperwork hell. But _nobody_ threatens my family and gets away with it. _Nobody_. And I may love you, and I may love Steve, and I may trust you two but Tony? Tony is _my family_ ,” she stated and then beamed.

“Anything else?” she asked gently, warmly as Marie pat her hand on Bucky’s face, whining, “Boo-Boo.”

Bucky chuckled a bit, finally giving Marie his attention when she smacked his shoulder and made an indignant noise. “Yes, small fry?”

She wiggled in his arms, trying to climb over his shoulder, so he set her back on the ground and let her crawl speedily back to her blanket and toys.

“Did you know Tony’s convinced she can walk and just doesn’t want to?” he asked, watching Marie.

Darcy laughed. “Yes. I’m pretty sure he has JARVIS keep an eye out for any sneaky walking.”

“He does,” Bucky drawled, smirking.

Darcy smiled and began to focus on paperwork once more. “Well, at least I know she always has someone watching her in case something happens and she gets separated from the rest of us in some great Greek Tragedy worthy moment,” she stated.

“Of course Miss Lewis,” JARVIS answered from the ceiling and Darcy chuckled as she bent a bit over the paperwork, her pen already working.

*~*~*

Darcy handed Marie over to Steve in almost something akin to a quick pass, and Steve laughed as he hauled the little girl up a bit as she giggled, grabbing at his nose. “Eve, Eve!” she cheered and Steve laughed, giving her arm a kiss as Darcy began to help Phil move everything to the large table.

No EZ-Boy recliner, and everyone dressed in comfortable clothes of sweats or sweaters, only Phil dressed in something that could be considered dressed up.

They were lucky that they got Tony out of something grease-stained, considering they were all coming off a mission of someone _attacking the Thanksgiving Day Parade._

Natasha had the turkey while Darcy carried out the ham and Phil handled the goose because not everyone wanted to eat turkey or ham.

It was also the lightest platter.

“Ony, Ony!” Marie cried as she reached her hands over to Tony, who laughed and stole her out of Steve’s arms.

“Ony!” Marie cried and gave a smacking kiss that was more noise and spit than actual kiss on his beard.

“Marie!” Tony answered brightly as he kissed her forehead, which earned him giggles.

Thor chuckled and ran a gentle finger down her back, which had her giggling and grabbing onto Tony’s nose, Jane cooing at her, briefly, before she hurried over to hug Darcy, who was carrying what seemed to be creamed onions, Phil in a seat.

The elevator doors opened and in walked Pepper, Rhodey, and Sam, all three grinning. “Pep Pep Pep!” Marie immediately shouted upon seeing her and Pepper laughed as she took the little girl from a playfully pouting Tony.

“Look at you!” Pepper cheered and Marie giggled as she sat in Pepper’s arms.

“You cheat, you have an easy name,” Rhodey stated and Marie continued to say, “Pep,” cheerfully.

“You could also show up more. Hey Marie, who am I?” Sam retorted and then wiggled his fingers at Marie.

“Bird!” Marie said in a mimic of Bambi.

Rhodey laughed as Sam stared at her. “Clint!” Sam said and Clint took off, only to get caught by Darcy.

“Bucky, get your little behind in here!” Darcy called as she dragged Clint into a seat next to Phil, who raised an eyebrow at Clint.

Sam signed something at Clint which had Darcy going, “Sam Wilson!” in a sharp ‘mother found your hand in the cookie jar’ voice as Pepper covered Marie’s eyes.

“Oooh, I don’t want to be you,” Rhodey stated as he walked away to swing an arm over Tony’s shoulders with a grin.

“Boo-Boo!” Marie screamed and Bucky laughed, easily crossing to Pepper and taking Marie.

“Well, she’s got a favorite,” Rhodey commented as Bucky pressed kisses all over Marie’s face, which had her giggling.

“Sit down and dig in!” Darcy cheered as Sam took a spot across from Clint to do the ‘I’m watching you’ movement with his hand.

Clint stuck his tongue out at Sam and Marie giggled as Bucky took a seat so that Steve could sit next to Sam with Tony on his other side next to Darcy, who sat at the head with Natasha to her right.

Marie stayed in his lap. “Boo-Boo!” she giggled and Bucky chuckled. Steve filled his plate as well as Bucky’s, passing it over him to Tony so that Bucky could keep one hand around Marie. Bucky was sure that Darce or Nat had some of Marie’s baby food with them for her, but they’d all been slowly giving her new solid foods to try. He scooped up a little bite of mashed potatoes and gave it to her, grinning at how she smacked her mouth together, a little frown on her face.

“Mo’ pease!” she stated, opening her mouth for another bite.

“Wonder if she’d like it with gravy,” Steve mused.

“No gravy!” Darcy called from the head of the table as Natasha popped open one of the homemade baby food containers they used that seemed to be blended vegetables in it.

“Alright,” Steve said, stealing gravy-free potatoes off of Bucky’s plate to give Marie. Bucky shot him a look, taking his own bite of potatoes. Marie smacked her lips happily, straining towards Steve against Bucky’s hold on her.

Natasha huffed a little as she stirred up the vegetables with a baby spoon and passed it to Darcy, who passed it to Tony. “Whoever gets her next gets to feed her that,” Darcy stated and Tony nodded as he set it down next to his plate.

Bucky managed another bite of food before setting his fork down and readjusting his grip on Marie. She stretched her arms out, saying “Eve!” so, after exchanging a glance with Steve, Bucky passed her over.

“There, little monster, go bug him.”

Steve took her, saying teasingly, “Boo-Boo is grumpy because he’s hungry, isn’t he?”

“Shut yer yap, Steve,” Bucky said pleasantly. Tony rolled his eyes, passing the baby food plus spoon to him and nodding towards Steve. Bucky passed it over to Steve, then turned to kiss Tony’s cheek.

Sam was leaning around Steve, saying “Sam,” with exaggerated slowness and pointing to himself. It wasn’t working; Marie just clapped her hands and kept repeating “Bird!” over and over. Clint was almost choking on his muffled laughter. He kept nudging Phil, who was resolutely ignoring him to instead talk with Pepper.

Tony leaned back, sipping his soda, and smiled as he looked around the table. Everyone was smiles and laughter (even Sam, though it was hidden behind the mock-scowl on his face for Clint). Bucky’s hand was curled around the back of Tony’s neck while he and Steve teased each other. Everyone was together, and unlike he’d feared weeks previous… everyone was happy.

It felt almost surreal, considering how much had happened in the past year, but they were. They were all together and happy. Bucky was back with them - fully now. Tony and Steve had both come a long way and were stronger together for it.

“Bird, Bird!” Marie cried as she leaned for Sam, ignoring how Steve was trying to get her to have some of the vegetable puree that Darcy had made for her and Sam laughed, taking her from Steve.

“Yeah! And when you get older and Tony makes that baby carrier, I’ll take you flying!” Sam stated.

“No, I won’t. I _like_ living!” Tony argued and Sam laughed as he lifted Marie up, making airplane noises as she giggled.

“Sam, if you want to continue to sleep peacefully at night, you will stop planning on taking her flying with those wings of yours,” Natasha warned from her spot at the table and Thor laughed from the other head opposite of Darcy (so he could have _space_ enough to eat).

Tony looked around the table and smiled.

Yeah, they were crazy and casually threatened each other with death they didn’t mean, and were sometimes very loud, but they were his family.

And Tony wouldn’t change them for anything.

“Eat Tony,” Darcy poked and Tony laughed, obeying the mother without hesitation.

*~*~*

Tony was on top of Bucky, tracing something along his chest and up his shoulder. Probably equations to do with the suit, or the arm, or some new idea for an SI product that had popped into his head. It was quiet, except for the soft sound of Steve’s snores, and with the reactor partway covered between them it was almost dark in the room.

“I still think sometimes that I’m going to wake up,” Tony whispered, immediately catching Bucky’s attention. “That this isn’t going to be real, was just some… really long dream.”

“You still think I’m going to disappear on you?” Bucky asked, wishing there was some way he could help make it stick for Tony that he was back, he wasn’t _going anywhere_.

He wasn’t going to slip back into that… that headspace, wasn’t going to check out and disappear on him.

He’d not do that ever again if he could help it, not knowing how it affected Tony and Steve to lose him like that, to have him but not.

“Sort of,” Tony said, frowning absently. “More that… that I’m going to wake up, and all of this… this happiness is going to be gone.” He grimaced. “Fuck, that’s horrible and sappy, pretend I didn’t say that.”

“No,” Bucky disagreed, smoothing his hand up from the small of Tony’s back to curl around his neck.

Tony sighed and grumbled a little before going quiet and serious again. “I thought… it’s just, for a while, I thought I’d lost it, you know?” he continued. “After that… the fight with Steve, I just… I thought that there was no possible way to fix things.” Tony looked over at Steve, his face softening. “I’m glad there was. That we were able to… talk and listen. To try.”

“You two both were so brave,” Bucky whispered into Tony’s hair. “I’m sorry I wasn’t-”

Tony twisted, stretching up to kiss him and shut him up. “I told you, not your fault,” he said when he pulled back.

“Yeah,” Bucky sighed. “Doesn’t make me any less proud of either of you for doing what you did, essentially alone.”

Tony shrugged, looking uncomfortable with the praise, and looked back at Steve. Bucky did too, smiling helplessly at how Steve was drooling a bit into the pillow, out like a fucking light after the mission combined with Thanksgiving dinner.

It hadn’t been dangerous, but it’d taken for-fucking-ever. Bucky hoped that whoever interrogated the asshole that had decided to attack the Thanksgiving Day Parade was not kind.

“Love you,” Bucky sighed, squeezing Tony’s neck, reaching out with his other hand to brush Steve’s hair back from his forehead. Tony smiled against Bucky’s chest.

“Love you too,” he said, a quick mumble said on a sharp exhale.

Bucky shifted, pulling Tony the rest of the way over him and between him and Steve, curling an arm around him and giving him a long, slow kiss. At some point, Steve shifted closer in his sleep and latched onto Tony as well.

Tony pulled back, sighing, eyes closed. He was relaxed, almost asleep, burying his face slightly against the pillow and mumbling something about ‘missed this’.

Bucky stayed awake a little longer, just to watch the two of them, how Tony wiggled back in his sleep to curl more against Steve, how Steve snuffled into Tony’s hair and let out a quiet sigh. Bucky had a hard time really imagining them like both of them (like everyone) claimed they’d been - distant and cold to each other, sharp, near hateful. It was impossible to imagine, especially when he kept seeing the trusting way Tony’d lean into Steve’s side, the gentle, sweet way Steve kissed Tony’s forehead before leaving.

If it weren’t for the foggy half-memories from his time as the Soldier, Bucky didn’t know if he’d believe any of them at all.

He supposed it didn’t matter so much now. They had obviously managed to work through the worst of it, were stronger for it. Steadier, maybe even happier.

When Bucky settled against the bed, he reached out to link his fingers with Steve’s on Tony’s hip.  
Anything else that was still off between all of them, they’d figure out.


	24. Chapter 24

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay guys, here it is - the last chapter, the epilogue to give this a bit of a wrap up. Because happiness is needed.

“Happy Birthday to you! Happy Birthday to you! Happy Birthday dear Marie,” they sang as Darcy held Marie on her lap, keeping her from just smashing her hands into the applesauce cake that also had a light candle on it.

Marie giggled and squirmed. “Blow out the candle,” Darcy encouraged and she spit more than blew, but the candle went out with a quick… help from Darcy and they cheered.

Natasha began passing out plates of cake to the other adults in the room while Clint reached over and plucked out the candle in Marie’s applesauce cake so she could shove her hands into it without worrying.

Pausing when she passed Bucky his slice of cake, Natasha murmured quietly in Russian, “How’s he doing?”

Bucky glanced at her quickly from the corners of his eyes and hummed questioningly.

Tsking impatiently, Nat said, “You know what I’m talking about. How is he doing?”

Across the room, Tony was standing next to Steve, grinning as he watched Marie tear into her little cake with childish delight. The only sign that Tony wasn’t as relaxed as he appeared was how he kept pulling out his phone every five minutes. Bucky knew he was checking that JARVIS was still online, and that things were still secure, still safe.

A year ago Marie had been born, but their family had also been torn apart for a while. Bucky didn’t blame Tony for worrying it might happen again, even if they all knew the chances of it were on the small side. Fears like that were illogical; Tony was handling it admirably if anyone asked Bucky.

“He’s fine,” he told Nat, focusing on his cake again. It had the perfect proportions of cake to icing. “Worried,” he admitted, “but fine.”

Natasha let out a soft breath. Bucky wondered if anyone else would have really noticed it, known that it meant she’d been concerned. He grinned at her, not bothering to dodge when she narrowed her eyes at him and flicked his ear.

She went to sit with Darcy and Marie. Bucky leaned back in his chair, feeling absolutely content. The three of them looked so happy together, and not far from them stood Clint and Phil. Clint was making faces at Marie over Darcy’s shoulder. Phil had a hand on Clint’s hip and was talking to Pepper, both of them more dressed down than they usually were this time of day.

Sam, Steve, and Rhodey were talking. If Bucky concentrated, he could hear them; it sounded like they were trying to one-up each other for most ridiculous situation on a mission. Steve had both arms wrapped around Tony, and occasionally turned to press a kiss to the back of Tony’s head or rest his chin on top of Tony’s head.

Bucky kind of wanted to go over there and get in on the cuddling, but he could also see Tony sneaking bites from Steve’s plate of cake. He didn’t feel like sharing his.

Once he finished though… well, then he would go wiggle himself between the two of them.

*~*~*

Bucky came back from a morning run with Peggy and Steve to a stranger in the kitchen, talking with Tony.

Peggy gave a bark and rushed forward, leaning into the pets the man offered happily. Bucky glanced at Steve, who shrugged. Tony was watching them, fingers rapping a few times over the reactor before he shot to his feet, movements sharp and quick with nervous energy.

Bucky frowned a bit.

“So, uh, this is Paul. Paul, this is - Steve, and uh, Bucky.”

“I’ve heard about Steve, but you never mentioned a Bucky.” Paul gave Tony a vaguely accusing, fondly exasperated look. “You left out some of that complicated, didn’t you?”

Tony gave a sharp laugh, relaxing a little, telling Paul, “You really have no idea.”

Bucky gave a small shrug to Steve and wandered over to the fridge, grabbing the jug of juice and taking the two glasses Steve had pulled down, filling them. He leaned back against the counter and watched curiously, the slight uncertainty in between the words exchanged by the two at the table.

Steve speaking softly in French startled Bucky out of watching the two closely.

“A friend from rehab?”

Bucky considered it. “Maybe.”

Tony glanced over at them, raising a brow. “Stop your whispering at super-hearing levels.”

Bucky grinned at him, walking over and pressing a kiss to the top of his head. “Yeah, alright. Steve and I are gonna shower, you two still gonna be around when we get out?”

“I was thinking of taking Paul out for a little celebratory lunch,” Tony admitted.

“Okay,” Steve said, coming up behind Bucky, hand landing on his hip. “You want company or privacy?”

“Eh, I’ll let you know,” Tony said with a shrug.

As Bucky and Steve walked away, they could hear Paul say quietly, “So,” in a pointed voice.

Steve laughed into Bucky’s hair.

*~*~*

“So… I’m thinking, when Marie is four or so, maybe we can have Baby Number Two, if you want,” Darcy offered and Natasha looked over at her.

It was quiet on their floor, and the Cat had settled itself on Darcy’s lap.

It was a worthy opponent for Darcy’s attention and Natasha narrowed her eyes at the creature.

“Do we not want Baby Number Two?” Darcy asked, her voice holding that confused tone it got when they had already agreed on something and hadn’t discussed a change.

“No, no, we want Baby Number Two. Who will you ask?” Natasha questioned.

“Steve,” Darcy answered and Natasha blinked a bit before she settled next to Darcy and kissed her cheek.

“Sounds perfect,” Natasha answered and Darcy beamed as she snuggled into Natasha’s side.

Point to Natasha Romanov.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And that's it! The end of this fic.
> 
> This is not the end of this verse - we have PLANS for what's coming up! - but... both of us will be taking a bit of a break - maybe just a month, maybe more like three, we're not sure. From the start of writing and the time of posting this fic, it has been the work of well over a year. We're due a break, lol.
> 
> When we come back, we're planning to start posting for one of other other verses, probably a happier one lol. We're kind of big on happy at the moment. But we'll still be around - and Tumblr has our drabbles, many of which take place in these verses of ours, including Sandbox Pet AU. Feel free to come read those while we're resting up. ;)
> 
> Thank you everyone for reading, leaving wonderful comments, and enjoying this fic with us!


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